<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>No Bird by ElectricViola</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988908">No Bird</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectricViola/pseuds/ElectricViola'>ElectricViola</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Love, M/M, Multi, Other, ReiKasa, Rough Sex, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:27:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectricViola/pseuds/ElectricViola</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Limits, boundaries, walls; they're everywhere, and the strongest ones are invisible. I know I will not resist the urge this time, and I can already recognise the consequences will not be pretty.</p><p>It's hard to say where it all began. I will start with the first night I had with Reiner. My name is Mikasa Ackerman, and I have lost my senses.</p><p>(Dark &amp; explicit elements in this story, and it will be a long one. This happens after Reiner and Pieck team up with our regular people, chapter 130.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Levi/Hange Zoë, Mikasa Ackerman &amp; Armin Arlert &amp; Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman &amp; Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman/Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman/Levi, Mikasa Ackerman/Reiner Braun, Reikasa - Relationship, Sasha Blouse/Connie Springer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Snares and Snares and Snares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Dunno if this counts as a crack ship or not, but I suddenly got embroiled in it a few days ago. It hit me quite out of nowhere, considering there's not even a hint of it in the source material. It's been a while since I last uploaded here (four years?) and as usual my messed up real-life experiences make me come up with weird stories that I like to share with anybody who'll read lol.</p><p>Warnings for some dark &amp; explicit content. Take my word for it.</p><p>Don't get confused by the tags, they'll make sense later.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I've been watching him for some time, now.</p><p>It's not the way that Hange or Levi watch him; their eyes don't trail after our teammate in the same way my eyes do, and they certainly don't hold the same feelings that I feel.</p><p>When he speaks up, when he draws close to me on training days, even for the briefest moment, I feel so light-headed, so faint. If Armin or Connie feel this way, it's only because they've worked themselves to exhaustion.</p><p>He is legendary, he is power and fame. He is humility combined with skill and intellect. He is everything I want to be.</p><p>We are together in a cart, heading to... Somewhere. I've lost count of the number of times our little group changed plans, or switched allegiance, or teammates. Jean says there will be no forgiveness for him. He accepts that, like a real man. I cannot imagine the war in his soul, for him to be only a couple of years older than me and yet infinitely wiser.</p><p>I rest my head on my legs, which are drawn to my chest, feverish and consumed by the delicious heat building within me.</p><p>It's not a crush, and it's not love. It's a sickness that consumes my body, makes me lose strength, fills me with fright unlike any other I've known before and exhilaration. Conflicting thrills course through my veins, and it becomes hard to breathe when I see him, but also when I do not. I feel no affection for him. It's obsession, it's a sickness.</p><p>It's not long before <em>he</em> takes notice.</p><p>"Are you alright?" The words sound like a distant rumbling. I could have imagined them. Perhaps I did.</p><p>"Hey," he says, reaching over to my shoulder, and I know that I did not imagine him asking if I am alright. It takes everything I have not to lean into his touch in front of everybody, or to draw away like I've been burned where his hand meets my skin.</p><p>"Picked up the big brother hat again, eh?" I vaguely hear Jean speak, his voice dripping with derision. I feel a sudden need to come to Reiner's assistance, simply by responding and giving him back his dignity.</p><p>"Tired," I say softly, not quite looking at him. It's difficult to look at him without feeling a pang of guilt, but I spoke truth; I am tired of feeling this way.</p><p>He squeezes my shoulder, probably thinking he is helping, but the thumb that brushes against my neck is more <em>delightful</em> than comforting. Pleasant tingles radiate through my body; it is a feeling I cannot temper.</p><p>I peek a glance at him after he draws away, when it's safe for me to look. I recall the times my hand strays at night when I think of him, and a fever of a different kind takes over my body.</p><p>He is looking off to the horizon as the sun sets. I want to run away, I need to keep him safe from me. I need to possess him, to mark him as mine.</p><p>I fear for this man's safety.</p><p>I want him. I <em>want</em> him.</p><p>Why do I dig out the most unnatural parts of myself and caress them until it drowns my senses?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Steps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warnings for smut.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He's got a fine face. That is, once it heals from Jean's beating. I'd never seen anyone heal so fast, really. But he does have a beautiful face; it's weathered, and mostly still, except when his eyebrows twist and contort as he gets wrapped up in his mind again. I like the way his blonde stubble glints off the sunlight. I'm obsessed with the way his chest puffs when he stands straight and crosses his arms, his quiet eyes appraising his surroundings. Not for the first time, I try to imagine the sort of hell that sits within his sinewy body.</p>
<p>How he had utterly escaped my notice when we were children, I will never know. Now that he is a grown man in his full maturity, I can hardly hear his name on another's lips without feeling the irregular thud of my heart.</p>
<p>He is sitting alone, scratching at something on his blade. He doesn't look up until I get too close, at which point his eyes widen in confusion at what I could possibly be approaching him for.</p>
<p>"Hello, Mikasa."</p>
<p>"Reiner."</p>
<p>I keep staring at him. My heart is in my throat. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.</p>
<p>He gives a sort of little shrug, with a polite, almost awkward semi-smile. <em>What do you want</em>, he seems to say, but not quite outright to a creepy girl just staring at him.</p>
<p>Indeed, what <em>do</em> I want?</p>
<p>"I have something to tell you Reiner, will you come with me?" Inside I am trembling from the uncertainty I feel. Outside I imagine I must look creepy, as always. He certainly looks a little creeped out. I can't quite figure out if he is expecting a trick, or is simply unhappy that his special wallow-time is being interrupted.</p>
<p>He rises to his full height. My heart is already pounding in my chest; why do I feel guilty? I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? Is it my fault that the person my heart chose for me is, well, possibly leaning the other way, not to mention a borderline psychopathic mass murderer?</p>
<p>"Lead the way, madam," he says plainly, although he does points his arm a particular direction into the forest. I take the cue and head off into the direction that he offered, and walk ahead of him into the thick of the trees.</p>
<p>It's like I have forgotten how to walk. I am self-conscious; is he looking at me? Does he like what he sees? I think I should slow down and walk next to him. Or will that look strange or suspicious?</p>
<p>My thoughts turn in a similar scramble as we walk for ten minutes, or maybe more, or maybe less. I don't know anything anymore. We come across a path, which looks disused enough in the moonlight.</p>
<p>This is far enough, private enough. My hands are shaking; if he notices this I hope he will attribute my nervousness to some other sort of machination. I was also hoping I would be able to come up with a convincing plan while we walked up till here, or at least a compelling enough secret that I could tell him without really helping him.</p>
<p>I stop and turn around, and he takes the cue from here.</p>
<p>"So what did you want to tell me?" he says quietly, crossing his arms and leaning in conspiratorially like I'm about to tell him some grand state secret. I cannot look him in the eye.</p>
<p>What do girls normally do at this point? Surely not what I'm doing, which is nothing at all. Do they stand there, shaking in their boots, attempting telepathy?</p>
<p>He is starting to get worried, or bored, because he is casting looks about him, around us, at the forest. I am worried that he is of a mind to turn around and leave, and I grit my teeth as I feel forced to act quickly.</p>
<p>I breathe in deeply, through my nose. I take a step closer; he leans back, confused, or wary. I am so close I can smell the plain soap we've been using to wash up. I can smell his skin as well; he smells like fresh tomato that's been warming in the sun.</p>
<p>But he is not a tomato, and the sun went down a while ago, and he is showing immense patience which I am afraid is running out.</p>
<p>I reach up with my hand, and caress his cheek. I barely have enough time to feel the rough stubble when he flinches back so violently he has to throw an arm behind him to catch his fall. Those lovely hazel eyes are wide, mouth slightly open, which is an expression that makes him look quite like a squirrel.</p>
<p>Jig's up. I tell myself that I have decided to do nothing more because the ball's in his court, but in truth it is because I am transfixed on the spot in my terror. I do not know how long we stand here, his chest heaving in shock, his body still on the ground. He's acting like I tried to kill him or something.</p>
<p>"What's gotten into you?" he whispers. In my harrowed mind, that sounds like<em> go away, I do not want you.</em> This being the worst possible outcome in my mind, I figure it can't get any worse, and so it gives me the courage to join him on the ground, leaves crunching under my knees as I straddle him.</p>
<p>There's a brief struggle. I say struggle because it's mostly him spluttering expressions of shock and trying to scramble away without hurting me, and me wondering if I should give up since he is making me feel like a complete fool. I think he has decided that he has had enough when he takes a hold of my arms, and pins them tight behind my back with one hand.</p>
<p>I fall against his chest, and for a moment I get to hear the hammerlike thud of his heart next to my ear.</p>
<p>"What is wrong with you, Mikasa?" he whisper-shouts as he stares me down, which is impressive considering I'm on top of him.</p>
<p>I am faint, and despite this turn of events I feel pleasure building inside me. The sound, the feel of him breathing in my ear is doing more delicious things to my body than my fingers ever could. I thrash around a bit, until he releases my arms with a grunt.</p>
<p>"Can't we..." I reach for his face again.</p>
<p>"No, we cannot." His powerful hand latches onto mine to stop me. He is strong. But I am strong too. I flip the grip, and it's me holding his hand captive. I make him cup my breast, and his walk palm against my sensitive skin feels so good that I have to sigh.</p>
<p>"Behave yourself," he spits out. His struggle against me is genuine, because I know he has lost his wits, and therefore his strength, because of my actions, and because he does not want to harm me. And yet I feel the hardening bulge where his hips sit under mine. I give an experimental roll, and he hisses, closing his eyes; his free hand shoots forward to still me by my elbow. I see his eyes wander over to where our hands are joined; his tanned skin, holding aside my delicate, white hand, the difference in our physical bodies accentuated in the moonlit night, and there is a distinct change in the energy with which he breathes, heavily and steadily. The bones in my elbow are grinding together from his tight hold. I see an opening; I act. I grind against his loins harder, once more, and I watch in fascination as he hisses again and throws his head back in pleasure. He releases my elbow, grabs me by the hip, squeezes my breast until I gasp and I can't tell if he's trying to make me grind harder or still my movements.</p>
<p>The cogs in his mind are whirring; I almost can hear him telling himself, <em>no, no, no, or maybe yes... But no, no... Or perhaps yes?</em></p>
<p>He comes to a decision.</p>
<p>Suddenly he flips us over with a grunt that makes a shot of pleasure roll through my belly, so it's him on top and I'm helplessly gasping under him. He crushes his lips against mine; I touch him all over his broad shoulders, his muscular chest, and it's absolutely everything I imagined, and more. Gone is the gentle Reiner of my fantasies, replaced by the man whose strength overpowers me, his large body crushing the breath out of me and pressing mine into the dry leaves on the forest floor.</p>
<p>There is no ecstasy comparable to the feeling of a man's solid frame on top of you, the hardening bulge in his trousers between your legs, a man you've been dreaming of for <em>years</em>.</p>
<p>There is a part of me that still worries this is only a dream, I will wake up and I will realise this is all my imagination, despite the fact that stray branches are digging into my soft skin, despite the fact that he is crushing me under him and it would be painful if it wasn't everything I wanted.</p>
<p>"Open your mouth," he whispers until I obey, and with every hot slide of our lips sparks fly behind my eyes. He tastes of trees, of bark, and I am trembling underneath him.</p>
<p>I flush all the way to my roots when he chuckles against my mouth; it's a sound of derision, mockery even. His voice is rough, like stone grinding together to make a spark, "So this is what you've been wanting to talk about, hm?"</p>
<p>I gasp when he snakes a hand between us and palms at my cunt. "<em>Talk</em> enough for you?" He touches me roughly, waiting expectantly for an answer. There is little pleasure in the physical act, but my head rolls back and I restrain a moan from the emotional validation this brings me. I like to be touched gently, slowly--the way I do it to myself when I have a minute to lie down and picture him, tall and broad and blonde.</p>
<p>"I want you inside me," I say, not daring to go above a whisper because I fear it might burst the bubble of fulfilment that I feel from the sheer <em>wrongness</em> of this entire business.</p>
<p>My mouth goes dry at the feeling of him watching me carefully, nodding slowly with a clenched jaw. Is that disappointment I see beneath his taciturn agreement to my wishes? I have to look away, or I will implode.</p>
<p>He places his cheek on mine, squeezes my thigh, as if in warning, <em>I won't be gentle</em>, and the kisses that he trails on my ear, my cheek, feel more intimate than when he touched me a moment ago.</p>
<p>He snatches my scarf from around my neck and lays on the ground best as he can, pulling me on top of it. He tries to loosen my buttons, which I cannot stop because he is just that heavy. He kisses my collar, trying to pull my dress off my shoulders until I beg him not to. I am not wearing a brassiere, and I know he can see my nipples now that they are hard and poking through the pale fabric.</p>
<p>"Please, please, no," I plead. I am self conscious, not ready to be bared to him. I weakly push his hands away, once more feeling a peal of excitement at the fact that he's so strong, so large and tan, and I am pale and fragile like porcelain. He could force me. He could do anything he wants with me, easily. I am frightened by his vigour, but the intoxicating feeling of not being in control makes me wet and warm and I am sure he will like that. By some biological demand, I must think that I am pleasing him, otherwise there is no pleasure for me.</p>
<p>He hums, as if in understanding, and laughs at me lightly again, cupping one breast with his hands but giving up on trying to strip me fully. He settles for hiking up my skirt, he digs bruises into my thighs with his thick fingers as he kisses my breasts through my clothes, and the pleasure I find in there is so utterly delicious that I moan like a whore, pressing my hips up to meet his.</p>
<p>I can feel his erection harden through my thin underwear and his heavy clothing, and I can already tell this is going to hurt because from what I can glean, the length and thickness of it matches the size of the man it belongs to.</p>
<p>His skin is clammy, especially where my hands rest under his shirt, on his back, on his neck. I can feel the heat of his body emanating from him and it's making me dizzy.</p>
<p>He pulls of my knickers, tosses at our feet on the scarf. His belt clinks as he undoes his trousers--an impossibly erotic sound that makes me sigh--and it is the only warning I have before I feel the warm head of his erection between my legs.</p>
<p>A shrill gasp escapes me as he pushes all the way in in one swift thrust, and I feel like I'm being hammered from inside.</p>
<p>"You're so fucking wet," he grinds out against my ear as he sets a brutal rhythm, my knees turned up to the sky and my hair fanning out around me as I take his soul-crushing thrusts with strangled squeaks and gasps. I am forced to hold on to his arms so his thrusts don't push me away, and he has to keep pulling me back to him so he can keep fucking me.</p>
<p>Somewhere in the unfamiliar fullness inside me, I find a sweetness, and as I hang onto it with all my will the pain dissipates. I focus on his hard body, on his erection stroking those hidden parts of me as he uses me to pleasure himself, on the deep grunts that he makes with the effort it takes to fuck me like this and the thrilling sensation he gets from it.</p>
<p>I let go of my death grip on his arms, and lace my arms around his neck, which he seems to enjoy because he leans down closer so our chests are touching and he says, "Good girl."</p>
<p>He keeps thrusting, calling out in pain as my nails dig into his arms. He throws my hands away with a swipe of his muscular forearm and holds my wrist down with one hand, crossed above my head like some martyr.</p>
<p>I try to hide my face by turning away, moaning breathlessly with every thrust. Even my breasts feel good from the impact his body makes against mine; it feels delicious, and I want this never to end.</p>
<p>"Yes, yes, yes, more," I moan without quite meaning to, "don't stop, don't stop...!"</p>
<p>"Oh God, oh fuck," he grunts as he pushes himself into me frantically. Mere seconds before he comes, he pulls out, spilling his seed on my thigh, our clothes, my shoe too somehow. His withdrawal makes me gasp in surprise at the sensation of suddenly being <em>empty</em> inside, and I feel a pang of annoyance with him.</p>
<p>The ejaculate is warm on my skin. I am curious about it; I want to reach down and touch it, taste it, but I do not dare. My scarf, I realise soon enough, escaped him. It is still clean, still innocent.</p>
<p>I am still breathless from the violent fucking, and in the moonlit night his face is flushed, his eyes are too bright. He rolls over, falls back heavily next to me, off the little bed he has made out of my scarf.</p>
<p>"You're a goddess..." he whispers in between his pants, and I am surprised when he slips an arm under me and pulls me close to his chest. "May I offer my assistance" he whispers as his fingers make their way down my belly, close to my cunt.</p>
<p>It's an affectionate gesture that sends a jolt of panic through my belly, and in my terror I almost slip away from him as I push his hand away in a blind panic. He huffs at me, and moves to fasten his trousers. Until he pauses.</p>
<p>"Is that... are you bleeding?" he says in a single breath as his hand whips out to take my hand. I stay quiet, figuring I'll just let him think it's my period or something. But this is real life, it's not the fantasy world where everything goes as I will it to. His hold tightens on me in response to my silence. "Wait. Are you a virgin?"</p>
<p>"... was."</p>
<p>"Why didn't you say something?" he says almost accusingly.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," I say lamely.</p>
<p>"Why are you sorry to <em>me</em>," he hisses as lies back down, and pulls me tighter to his chest. I say nothing. "Never mind. Are you hurt?"</p>
<p>"I think so."</p>
<p>"You should have said something. I'm not psychic. Where does it hurt?" He touches my belly again, and my alarm bells go off as he strokes my skin lightly. My stomach jolts and I gasp, and he stops immediately.</p>
<p>"Inside..."</p>
<p>He nods slowly. "It'll heal."</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>"Can I kiss you?"</p>
<p>"... Yes, Reiner. Kiss me." He obeys, his heart thudding against my breast when he rolls on top of me again.</p>
<p>The way he gasps in excitement frightens me. I push him off. I really am hurt.</p>
<p>"Don't worry," he whispers against my mouth, "I won't do it again," and I let him kiss me until we're both breathless and fully aware of the fact that neither one of us will allow this to be our last time.</p>
<p>In each other's unfamiliarity, our parting words are stilted. He leads the way back to camp, same path we came from, because I am lost, and when I tell him that his eyes narrow in annoyance, or worry.</p>
<p>"So... I suppose this is goodnight?" he says. <em>Let's separate; best not tell the others about this,</em> he means to say, and I hear him loud and clear.</p>
<p>"Yes. Goodnight Reiner."</p>
<p>"You go first. I'll go around."</p>
<p>I re-enter camp first, and for the first time in my life feeling something like genuine victory letting satisfaction bloom in my chest. After quickly wiping myself down, I lie in my night-sack, full of dried blood and Reiner's come, between Jean and Armin who are speaking quietly over me as if I'm not there. And it's true, I'm not really there. and I flush every time I think of it as I lull myself into a deep, comfortable sleep I haven't hand in years.</p>
<p>This is the beginning of our sex-filled nights together.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well... there we are. Hope you liked it. I'm editing the next chapter, should be up in a couple of days.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Beware the Witch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Reiner's thoughts</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finally made Mikasa Ackerman bleed; this is how long it took, despite my many attempts in the past. I suppose I was just using the wrong kind of sword.</p><p>I would be lying if I said I did not see this coming.</p><p>There used to be times I could feel her quiet gaze, too timid to be caught, and too lingering to not be noticeable. An alarming prickle would go up my neck, in a slow crawl. No soldier would like it. Like she's feeling me up, searching my features one by one. Sometimes I get the urge to meet her gaze dead on, curious of what her reaction will be. But I know better; I know that one look will either start a fight, or send her skittering away like a shy rabbit.</p><p>I never could know her intentions for sure until the events of a few minutes ago. Sometimes I used to think she will murder me in my sleep. That was alright; I wouldn't mind a quick and painless death. But I used to start quaking in my boots when the thoughts turned darker, imagining her getting me down and torturing me before finishing me off. I could almost feel it, being pinned down, having my limbs cut off, joint by joint. Her psychotic eyes certainly do nothing to comfort me whenever I do look at her to assess her intent, when I think she is otherwise occupied.</p><p>But she did get me down though, didn't she? And she did torture me with her soft skin against mine, her small hand pressing my murderous hands to her breast, before finishing me off so to speak, didn't she?</p><p>I pause. What if she still wants that? To torture me, truly, within an inch of my life? To keep me alive? I went around camp to re-enter from another path; when I arrive, she is already there, huddled up with Armin and Annie. I'm wondering if she cleaned up, or if she still bears the marks of the pain I inflicted on her. The thought of it excites me, although I try not to let it take over me because there's that prickle of fear again. The thoughts come, unbidden:</p><p>
  <em>She's after me.</em>
</p><p>I am too wrapped up in my thoughts to see Jean until I almost bump into him. He looks like he wants to beat me up again, but mostly just ignores me. I keep walking.</p><p>"Tent's that way, jackass," he says softly. He really wants to kill me, I can tell by the way he is refusing to look at me, as if the mere sight of me will provoke him to beat me to pulp again. I don't really care. He can do it if it pleases him.</p><p>Connie's in there already.</p><p>"Where the fuck were you, Reiner?"</p><p>"I had to take a piss."</p><p>"For a fucking hour? Hange made us clean up dinner on our own and then set up these tents. You're a fucking cunt, Reiner." Connie is just plain staring me down just as Jean ducks and comes into the tent.</p><p>"A shit, then."</p><p>"Ugh!" they say together.</p><p>I cannot focus on the chitter around me, despite my best efforts not to miss any important details I missed while I was in the forest.</p><p>I'm not fully aware of who's saying what. Connie and Jean are next to me, and I am in the middle. The former is fast asleep already, although the latter tosses in a way that indicates he might be halfway in that place between dream and wakefulness. After a quick overview of camp, I suppose it's Levi and Armin with Mikasa and Hange, and then it had to be Annie, Pieck and the kids in the third tent. I don't think I'm missing anybody. Why do I give a shit who she's shacking up with?</p><p>What a pathetic band of misfits we are. I want to fucking shoot myself in the face. This actually couldn't get any worse, short of having another disabled amputee in our whittled ranks or a new dead comrade.</p><p>The pleasant tingles radiate through my body from my recent release last for hours, and I refuse to fall asleep in those rough sleeping bags, the dreadfully weak tents, and lose this delicious sensation until I pass out from exhaustion.</p><p>The following morning, she doesn't look at me until we're forced to stand in the group, in the same semi-circle, as the team changes route again. Supposedly, Connie suddenly remembered there's a castle nearby where we can recover and be in better shape before we resume out chase. I agree; we won't be saving anything looking the way we do, sleep deprived and permanently bedraggled, and with Levi mostly mummified. She tucks her hair behind her ears when, perchance, our eyes meet as we haul our camping equipment onto a cart, and hold a searching gaze between us for the fraction of a second too long, a girlish gesture that makes me want to kiss her.</p><p>When we're done, she rushes off to sit with Armin.</p><p>Wondering why she picked me when Jean is right there is like being doused in cold water. Was she bored, in need of a new challenge? Does she want to punish herself? I pause. Does she want to punish <em>me</em>, and this is the only way that made sense? It's not like I don't have enough to think about, be sad about, be worried about.</p><p>Jean's a good looking guy, Jean. He's tall, and he's got morals, unlike me. He never tried to hurt Eren, or kidnap him, and he didn't try to swat Mikasa out of the air in the middle of a fight that would have paralysed another person quite permanently, unlike me. Certainly didn't tackle her off the wall that once. Mikasa doesn't look at him as we sit together for breakfast. There are dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep; I wonder if that interlude with me is in large part preoccupying her. It's preoccupying me, to be sure.</p><p>My thoughts stray, way too often. My belly coils in anticipation whenever that happens, and that's almost all day. I steady by breathing, I count the number of dead, and then I do not have to worry about my erection pressing uncomfortably tight through my trousers. I recall wondering last night, why doesn't she want me to see her? And then the answer was evident when I saw my cock covered in a thin layer of blood.</p><p>Why would she let <em>me be</em> the man to take her virginity? Of <em>all</em> the males on this planet? I pause again here. Perhaps it's because I was the least likely to accept her, her being my victim, my enemy, and her being aware of my interest in men...?</p><p>We travel all day, and she doesn't say a word to me; yet in her silence the silent expectation is rolling off her in waves. Sometimes she angles up one shoulder, lets her curtain of hair cover her face, and her muscles move as though she wants to turn to me. Yet she doesn't. And then I know. She wants to see me again tonight.</p><p>We set camp after hours of chatting, laughing a little from maybe a little joke here and there, a few words of consolation and commemoration from our compatriots, and not a single word from one of us. I try my best not to look at her too much, but I wonder what is keeping her more quiet than usual, so much so that she doesn't hop into the discussion to defend Eren as she was always wont to do.</p><p>This time she looks at me, her pretty, pink mouth parted. S<em>he's after me.</em> And there is nothing I can do to quench my curiosity now but let her consume me.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here we are! I'm a bit plastered at the moment so if there are any errors that stand out, I would be grateful if you let me know &lt;3</p><p>ps. Sorry for no smut, it's coming up!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Second Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our lovers spend another night together</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I go off into the forest without a word, although I do turn around to check if he's looking at me from across the campfire. He is.</p><p>His gaze <em>thrills</em> me, quiet and unassuming as it is. I walk on. Soon I hear leaves crunching under his shoe; he is behind me, and just like yesterday, my heart thuds like a hammer within my ribcage from a combination of nervousness and anticipation that makes me feel faint. Again I wonder if he likes what he sees, but I don't turn around to check. Am I soft enough, feminine enough? My breasts aren't large the way men like them, and I am not the sort to play coy games to get my way. My hair is short and dark, and I am incapable of modulating the pitch of my voice and turn into a helpless kitten to compel men to help me.</p><p>He's decided we have walked far enough, because I hear him stop. In his tallness, and his seriousness, I cannot imagine that I am something that he would keep for very long. My expiry date is upon me. I can sense it, I can glean it from how far apart we are in every sense.</p><p>I just barely have a chance to turn to him, to see his sullen, yet determined, expression, when he strides to me wordlessly, slips his arms around my back to pull me to him, presses his lips to mine.</p><p>He smells like leather and wood smoke. His stubble is rough, more than yesterday, and I'm drowning in the taste of his mouth, in the sheer masculinity of his solid form, in the insistent prods of his arms around my back until I lace my arms around his neck and he groans into the kiss.</p><p>I see now that my nervousness was unwarranted. This man wants me as much as I want him, there is no question of it. I can feel his desire for me in every finger that digs into my back, in every slide of his warm lips against mine.</p><p>"How are you?" he whispers softly as his fingers brush against my belly, and I understand what he means to ask.</p><p>"Better, today," I say softly, unable to hold his gaze.</p><p>"Did I hurt you, yesterday?"</p><p>"Only a little."</p><p>"Still sore?"</p><p>"... Only a little." That isn't true, and I think he knows it because he rubs his hands up and down my arms like he owes me an apology; which he doesn't, really. It was me, it was all me. His fault is limited to not rejecting a physical impulse, stoked by my own provocation, which would have been a worse injury for me. For all my perceived lack of feminine attributes, I doubt men, when deprived of physical contact with females for God knows even how long, could resist their baser instincts.</p><p>"You want to...?" he asks softly, looking at me so earnestly that my heart tightens; does he even need to ask? I'm already wet, I have been since I woke up this morning. My legs have been throbbing with desire, and I would do anything, anything to feel his cock pumping in and out of me again, this time with less pain, this time for longer.</p><p>"Yes, Reiner, yes," I whisper, and I sigh when his warm fingers caress my waist through my clothes. "Why did you come here if you thought I would say no?"</p><p>"... To talk?" I can't tell if he's joking or not, so I don't respond. There is a fragility in this moment that makes me avert my face. I feel gratitude when he breaks it; he puts his hand on the back of my neck, encircling it almost entirely, and turns my head to him again to kiss me so ardently I fall back a step with a soft gasp, but he doesn't allow me to distance us; he holds me, presses me up against him, the hard planes of his body standing in contrast to my softness. He's so tall that I am forced to angle my head up to meet his lips, and he likewise has to strain down. I moan when his lips find my neck, the roughness of his stubble scratching at my delicate skin, but I like the pain. I deserve the pain. I want it, the pain.</p><p>"Ah," I say in surprise at the sudden cold as he detaches himself from me to shuck his jacket and throw it on the ground, not as careful as he was with my scarf since his jacket is big enough to protect us from the dirty forest grounds.</p><p>"Good," he whispers when I sit on his jacket obediently, leaning back on my arms and waiting for him. "Very good." His eyes are roaming all over my body, from my face to my breasts and belly to the skirt shoved between my thighs and covering me. I might as well not be wearing clothes at all, that's how exposed his gaze makes me feel, unashamed, unabashed as it is. I wonder if he can see my nipples through the thin cloth of my dress. I think he can; his eyes seem to settle on my chest quite a lot. I let it happen; I arch my back slightly to emphasise my breasts. He is standing over me, tugging his shirt out of his trousers with swift jerks that make his muscles snap taut with every move of his arms. He stands very still for a moment, his arms hanging loosely by his sides as he continues to study me. Me, lying back, and his form, reminding me a statue in its stillness, only make me even more sharply aware of his body. When his shirt is loose of his trousers, he kicks my legs apart--I call out softly in surprise--he kneel between my legs and press himself to me. My breath comes short and fast, but I do nothing but clutch at the jacket of his that we lie on; my clothes are easily dealt with when he hikes up my skirt, his warm, rough hands brushing against my soft thighs.</p><p>He kisses my neck as I look up at the night sky through lidded eyes, gasping and moaning under his weight. That stubble of his, the pale moustache that makes him look like a ruffian, scratches up the soft skin on my neck. Under the stars, the moon that peeks from behind the clouds, I am wrapped in Reiner's strong arms, holding me so tight against him that his muscles are impressed upon my ribs, precisely the way I wish to be held. I can smell his heady scent, the leather and the clean skin, and the night hair stings my lungs as I inhale deeply.</p><p>"You're so soft, Mikasa," he whispers as his warm mouth presses against my collarbone. I only sigh in response, I bury my fingers in the cool, smooth strands of his hair.</p><p>"Please, please," I say. My body is warm, every inch of me feels electric from his touch. "Please..."</p><p>"You want it?" he says, his voice dripping with derision, a faint grin on his face, speaking how he would to a helpless whore underneath him who does not have the freedom to say no.</p><p>I nod, and nod, and nod, and his lips are once more on mine, and he's hissing at me to open my mouth until our tongues touch my mind goes blank at the sound of him reaching between us and unbuckling himself.</p><p>He leans back, hooks his arms under my knees to pull me close. He hikes my skirt all the way to my waist, and once more I relish the feeling of his warm hands brushing against my hips, my waist. Reiner hooks his fingers into my knickers, and tugs twice until they're at my knees, and my cunt is exposed to him. I shriek low in my throat when his fingers, cool from the night air, rub up once against my opening, which is already wet, and in fact has been wet all day. I cover my mouth with one hand to muffle my moans, and also to hide my face, but he seizes my wrist and pins my hand down next to me.</p><p>He comes closer to me, kneeling between my legs still, and I grab his shoulder at the feeling of his erection, hot and throbbing, at my entrance.</p><p>"Sopping wet," he murmurs as he stills my hips when I try to scuttle away at the feeling of the tip of his cock, hot and hard, prodding at my entrance, and when he thrusts all the way in with a smooth roll of his hips we sigh in relief. I turn my face away, cover my mouth.</p><p>"Stop hiding," he commands. I bite my lip as he knocks my arm away.</p><p>It feels wonderfully full inside me, and amidst this sensation of completion there is little pain, which subsides as he rolls his hips against mine, masculine puffs of breath tickling my neck every time he does. His chest is pressed against mine, and his arms are braced next to my body so I feel none of his weight and all of his heat. The pace is slow, uncertain at first, his thrusts are shallow and gentle, but it is driving me insane because it is not enough; I throw my head back and I am scratching up his lower back, under his shirt, the stop of his shoulders as far as I can slip my hand in, squeaking with unspoken want, because I can feel how his arms tremble from the effort it takes for him to hold back. I grab onto them quite suddenly, nails digging into his arms, and he grunts in pain. He plants open-mouthed kisses to my neck as he speeds up, involuntarily I think, when I say, "please, please, please..."</p><p>"More?" he asks, his voice frayed around the edges.</p><p>I nod. "Yes, yes, yes," I say under my breath, my legs shaking, my fingers trembling at the devastating rapture of having him on top of me, moving inside me, whispering such things to me that I would never imagine.</p><p>He thrusts again, hard, all the way in until he's buried to the hilt inside me and he grunts. When I call out, in a mix of pleasure and pain, he covers my mouth with one hand. He thrusts again, hard, and sets a violent pace that has me grabbing on to him for support.</p><p>"That's right," he tells me, his tight, low voice almost drowned out by moans of delight that I try to muffle against his shoulder, his words punctuated by powerful thrusts that jolt my entire body, "This is what I like. I like your pain."</p><p>I am choking back my shrieks, as he fucks me. There is no pleasure greater than this. There is only this. There is only getting fucked by a man who wants to ruin the world.</p><p>"Hurt me, Reiner, <em>hurt</em> me--"</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," he spits out in a rough whisper as he is bucks into me rhythmlessly. He sits back, kneeling, and pulls me up by the hip to impale me again with his cock, and I get a flash of the blond curls at his loins but I have to close my eyes because he pulls me to him with a bruising grip on my shoulder. When I look at his face, it's tight, his jaw set and his brow drawn low, with his nose scrunched lightly as if in disgust. I am squealing in pleasure and pain still, but it doesn't stop him; he pushes himself into me, deep and hard, and with a guttural groan he slowly thrusts all the way in until I shriek and dig my nails into his thigh, hard.</p><p>"Oh God, you're gonna make me come," he says in a rough voice I barely recognise as his as he pulls out all at once. I fall back with a gasp, frayed and frustrated, but when that liquid heat spurts onto my thigh, and I growl because it feels <em>good</em>. It's the sweetest gift, like being marked with a special brand. My body shudders at the thought of touching it, tasting it, just like yesterday, but again I do not dare. He is still holding me down, gasping and catching his breath with his cheek next to mine, lifting his hips so he's careful not to smear around his ejaculate. When I try to get up, he doesn't let me. With a huff, he shoves me back down, and he observes me with intense scrutiny again, from my flushed face, to my heaving chest, to my soiled thighs. I stretch back a little, putting my arms up over my head because something tells me he will like it, and he <em>does</em> because he exhales and chuckles, although there is no humour on his face. When his heaving chest stills some, he leaves an open-mouthed kiss on my lips, one that is insistent and breathless and trying to tell me something I cannot yet understand.</p><p>I think he came even quicker than yesterday. Has he been thinking about me, prolonging the brief seconds of foreplay by getting himself ready thinking about it?</p><p>I know I have. I was wet all day, and no efforts to control my thoughts succeeded. I could only tremble in trepidation, wondering, <em>was I alright last night, will he want to come with me again, did I scare him off with the blood</em>...? When our eyes met during the day, I was in fucking ecstasy. I ran away; he looked like he wanted to say something and I didn't want to hear <em>no, we can't keep doing this</em>. And I couldn't have borne <em>a would you like me to come to you again tonight</em>, either.</p><p>He moves off of me, and some of my euphoria just.... Fades.</p><p>"You alright?" he says, still catching his breath as he tucks his shirt back in his trousers. It's unbelievable how he looks at me so shamelessly, like we haven't just committed the most intimate act possible between man and woman.</p><p>I nod, looking away, pulling my clothes back in place. He tosses my knickers my way; I cannot wear them, my thighs being covered in his semen. I look at him, feeling quite feeble in my spine.</p><p>"Here," he says as he hands me a kerchief from his pocket, gesturing at my thigh. Did he come prepared this time, or does he always carry a kerchief?</p><p>"Thank you," I say quietly, and he subtly looks away and pretends to fix his clothes as I do my best to wipe away his seed. It's thick, and almost dried up. I don't really know what to do with the cloth. I can't return it, I can't keep it. I can't toss it.</p><p>"Ummm..." I say, looking down at the off-white cloth, hoping he'll understand.</p><p>"I'll take care of that," he says softly as he takes it from me.</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>"You sure you don't want to come?" he looks at me with those hazel eyes as he's tugging on his belt, fussing with its centreline, and his words are spoken so casually that my body heats up in shame over my own lack of experience. This is nothing to him. It could be any other battle, it could have been a conversation over a campfire dinner. I pause for a moment. How experienced was he really, in this department?</p><p>"Y-yes. No. I'm alright."</p><p>"... Alright, then." He kisses my cheek, grabs my arm, quite suddenly, and wraps his arm around my waist to pull me flush against his body. He kisses my mouth, gently. With the way we stand together, my hands on his chest and his firm hold on me, we could be any other couple... Normal people. "Next time, I wish you'd let me make you come," he breathes against my neck, and shoves me in the direction of camp with his hand on my back.</p><p>Next time, he said. <em>Next time.</em> That means there will be a next time. I do not know how to respond to that. "Going around camp again?" I say, tremulously trying to emulate his casual demeanour.</p><p>"Yes. Go." There is a strained air between us; but it's not an unpleasant at all. He is looking at me, and I am looking at him. He is dishevelled from sex, his hair mussed and his chest flushed all the way up to his neck. Something squeezes my heart.</p><p>"Goodbye, Reiner."</p><p>"Goodnight."</p><p>When I am back in my tent, there is that horrid feeling again. I don't think I sleep a whole lot. I am just thinking of Reiner's ejaculate, on my skin, rich and precious, a bodily proof that I am not just this human fighting machine. I am a woman, I am desirable and valuable.</p><p>I am dizzy with desire, and it's all I can do to hook my fingers in my sleeping bag to not let my fingers stray between my legs and masturbate with three other people sleeping next to me inside my tent.</p><p>I bury my face, hot and flush, until I can lull myself into a sleep where there is only Reiner, Reiner, my Reiner...</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry guys. I'm off my game today. My car broke down and I couldn't make it to my dentist's appointment, plus I've been drinking myself half to death because I'm literally home alone, going for weeks now. I don't know if I'm going to survive haha. But if there are mistakes or discrepancies in my story, I would appreciate it if you could let me know, and as always, your support means the world to me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Let yourself fall ill, let yourself fall ill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The night before they reach the castle</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm giving him looks all day. Noon is not upon us yet, and he hasn't returned my glances, not even once, with anything more than a polite smile. His muscles are visibly bulky under his shirt and every time I notice my breathing becomes more laborious.</p><p>I love this. I love having a secret.</p><p>I heave a heavy carton onto the cart. That prickle from last night travels up my neck again, and when I whip around to confront this unknown threat I see Levi is in the corner, quiet, doing nothing. His eye is fixed on me. It is as though my soul has left my mortal body.</p><p>"Your shoe," he says in a simple monotone, which makes me look down and indeed, there is a faint, crusty sort of discolouration on the dark leather. <em>He knows, he knows</em>.</p><p>I walk away with a bland statement. I don't know what I said to him, but I am certain it did nothing but confirm his suspicions if he had any. I am barely aware of what I am doing for the rest of the day, only aware that Reiner and I are in lethal danger of being exposed.</p><p>With a quick swipe, just my spit and my thumb, I rub it off. My mind is too frayed to taste anything but the stress in my mind.</p><p>But I've cleaned up. I've removed Reiner's seed off my legs. I'm clean again. I'm pure, like a new born lamb. My only sin is in my mind. If I close my eyes, nothing is real.</p><p>"What the fuck are you doing?" hisses Connie when I bump into him, distracted by Reiner's soft groan as he lifts a heap of firewood onto his shoulder.</p><p>"Sorry," I mutter.</p><p>"Where the fuck are you?"</p><p>"Watch your mouth," says Jean in warning to Connie, who growls at me. <em>Oh, if he knew. If he knew, he wouldn't be so worried about someone's language around me</em>. I'm fairly certain my face is aflame and I rush off before Jean as an opportunity to speak to me--because I think he's looking at me quite intently, as though trying to approach--I follow after Hange to load all our shit onto one of the carts. When it's all done, Jean's eyes are still on me, although he looks away when I catch him looking  It's bad. I've got it bad. Why do I feel guilty? I haven't done anything. I'm innocent. I'm clean.</p><p>Reiner doesn't speak to me; but I occasionally hear him softly whispering to Pieck, whose eyes are perpetually wet and nearly threatening to spill over with tears.</p><p>I brush my shoulder up against Jean when I'm sure that we are within Reiner's line of sight, who in a sudden jolt of confidence squeezes my arm, rubbing it. <em>It's going to be alright. We're all in this together, </em>he seems to say<em>.</em> I make sure to smile at him and not look at Reiner at all. That sure makes Reiner shut the fuck up. There is no more soft muttering from him to Pieck, the pretty girl with long hair, for the rest of the day.</p><p>My arse is sore from sitting all day on the hard wood of our cart. My ears are burning from fucking Annie and Armin whispering to each other non-stop, and my forehead is hot from the unrelenting sun we've been exposed to all day without cover. My nose is cold, I can hardly feel it, from the frigid air. There is no respite.</p><p>Reiner's leg is stretched out, long and muscular even under his trousers. I know he feels me watching him, whenever I do, because all of a sudden he is still, and his eyes slide over to me. My lips part; he looks like a god in the sun, blonde hair glinting and brow drawn low. My cunt is wet. I can only count the hours to nightfall.</p><p>At dinner, Reiner quietly eats his meal; some kind of potato stew that Hange made again. Our laughter, our jokes, our conversations are always a little more reserved when it's potato, although thankfully nobody makes a remark and I am guessing we are all grateful for it.</p><p>I want to go off into the woods with him, but this time he offers to help with cleaning up. I watch from the corner. Levi is looking at me; I do not give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him, or of moving away.</p><p>I go and sit with Jean quite deliberately, who gets a break from clearing the place because of Reiner's recent and repeated... desertions.</p><p>Camp is set up in the same fashion as the previous days. Broken up in three groups, as decent and modest as we can make it with the three men in one tent, Pieck and Annie with the kids in the second tent, and Armin in mine and Hange's purely for the continuous observation and defence Levi requires, should he need it.</p><p>Something is different tonight. A prickle of fear dashes through me with the unmistakable sensation of being watched as I exit my tent, quiet as a mouse, just as Reiner does the same. I chance a quick look behind me. Everyone is sleeping soundly, but I can't see Levi's eyes. I'm sure he's asleep. I'm sure he is. He has to be. My focus is single-mindedly on Reiner.</p><p>The uncomfortable prickle follows me all the way to the forest.</p><p>He reaches forward, takes my hand this time. "This is far enough," he says simply, as though it were simply a matter of setting up camp, or something, but it doesn't sound like a man deciding on a private spot where to fuck. His hand is warm, almost double the size of mine.</p><p>Why am I still nervous? We've done this twice already, why do I still feel the excitement of uncertainty in my belly? Why do I suddenly remember my mother's face, telling me about boys, her plain words about unreasonable proximity?</p><p>"Kiss me," I whisper, and he does. His tongue brushes up against mine and I'm in ecstasy, knowing this man has slept with me twice already and he doesn't mind doing it a third time. Surely, it means I'm worth something? I think I can feel the beginning of his arousal, and it is my duty to coax him until he has no choice but to have me. I press my palm to his erection; he groans.</p><p>"What do you want?"</p><p>"What?" I say faintly.</p><p>"What do you want today? What do you want me to do to you?"</p><p>"I'm thinking... I'm thinking of all those times you fucked us over..."</p><p>"What?" he says, blank, confused. He stumbles back; I don't let him. I dig my nails into his arms and he snarls.</p><p>"You've tried to kill me, you've shoved me off the wall, you've... And I'm thinking of getting on my knees to suck your cock every time you did." He sucks in a breath of air, yanks me close with his fingers digging into my arms.</p><p>"No," he breathes, pulling me close. "Not today. Tell me how you want it."</p><p>I do not know how to respond to that, for I am faint from the suggestion that he gives a shit what I want and could still do what he pleases. I am only singularly concerned with his satisfaction; it's what makes him happy that makes me happy. "I want you to rail me like it's your fucking job." His hand tightens on me, he bends his head to look at me better.</p><p>He flips me over with a swift jerk of his arm. "Up against the tree."</p><p>"No, no," I gasp.</p><p>"Get down then," he says as he takes off his jacket like yesterday. He pushes me down, makes me lie on my side, facing away from him. He doesn't take off my knickers; he settles himself behind me, and once again the utterly erotic sound of his belt has me gasping before he has even touched me. He's kissing my neck, and his mouth is warm and soft but his stubble burns me.</p><p>He touches me. He rubs me with two fingers, through my clothes which are so thin that I can feel the warmth of his fingers, but he's too rough. I cover his hand with mine, and I show him how I like it.</p><p>"Like this?" he rumbles as he slows down, eases on the pressure, his muscled arms bunching and releasing as his fingers stimulate my opening to a maddening flow. He grinds his erection against my arse. When his fingers find a rhythm that I like, and he knows when I do because I push back against his hips and moan loudly, he takes my mouth in a bruising kiss.</p><p>"You're wet," he rasps. "You're wet through your clothes."</p><p>"Ah," I gasp, and I let his hand go so I can reach back and twist my fingers in his pretty hair. I can feel it, I can feel it all. His warm body pressed to my back, his strong fingers on my cunt, breath in my ears and insistent cock against my skin; it's all perfect, and I know that he knows I will come because his fingers slow down. With a growl he pulls up my skirt, all the way to my hips, and shoves his hand down my undies completely.</p><p>"Oh my God, oh my God," I whisper. I throw my head back, safely tucked into his neck, drunk on his heat, his skill. I'm sure he can feel my heart pounding in my chest, with my back to his solid chest.</p><p>He chuckles lightly behind me. "Oh yes, I like this. Whore."</p><p>He pulls my underwear down to my knees, which is visibly soiled. I barely have the time to beg him to fill me up before he thrusts inside me all at once, hard and throbbing.</p><p>"Ugh, you little slut. You're so fucking tight." My face is flaming at his words, but I'm twisting my head around to press my lips to his neck and hanging on to his arm with my nails in pure desperation anyway.</p><p>It's almost over before it begins. It feels good, it feels better than the times before. I feel so <em>full</em>. He's got one arm hooked under my leg to hold it up, and he's panting and sweating as he rams into me from behind while I cover my mouth to muffle my yelps.</p><p>It's all I want, I think, it's all I ever wanted, it's the most important, the most impactful thing in my existence. I love the way my body tingles, from my toes to my nipples, and his harsh breathing only accentuates this feeling of immense pleasure.</p><p>With a long, low moan, he pulls out, and I am slightly disappointed when I don't feel his come on me, but it's alright because he comes in close and kisses my mouth, wet and helpless, like he can't control it. His fingers are trembling where they still hold my leg up, and his other hand comes under me to press itself to my collar, to caress my throat.</p><p>We lie like this, utterly spent, exhausted, and myself a little confused at the tightness in my heart.</p><p>I move to get fix my clothes, and he lets my leg go. My underwear is completely ruined. My wetness ended up on my dress.</p><p>"We don't have to leave immediately, you know," he says quietly. I surprise myself a little when the thought suddenly strikes me as I watch him, flushed face and mussed hair; he's <em>sexy</em>. When did he become sexy, and not merely an object of pleasure?</p><p>I want to say yes. I don't quite dare. "They'll notice..." Some part of me hopes he will insist, and he does.</p><p>"They're exhausted. They're sleeping. Come lie with me."</p><p>And I do. I put my hand on his chest, my head too, and let the powerful thuds of his heart lull me into something comfortable, something warm and soft. My body is still tingling from all the feelings he gave me, and I'm in the middle of falling asleep when he suddenly hisses and cringes away. I startle too, but before I can scramble off, thinking I did something, he pulls me back.</p><p>"Shit, sorry" he mutters, completely out of breath. "My jacket."</p><p>"And your shirt," I say shyly.</p><p>"Ah,<em> shit</em>."</p><p>"And my dress and my knickers," I whisper.</p><p>"Yeah, shit." His chest rumbles as he laughs lightly, and I also have to hide a little smile against his neck, which is warm and clammy and smells of pines. "Really, we're busted if someone notices."</p><p>I try not to think of Levi alerting me about my soiled shoes today. Ashamed, I do not mention it to him. There is a sudden lull, and he keeps inhaling deeply, and stopping himself, as though he wants to say something. I have an idea what it's about, but I let him take his time. I wonder if he'll be mad, or neutral and curious, or...</p><p>"What was that with Jean, today?"</p><p>I knew it. "I don't know what you mean." He strains down to look at me, and he can clearly tell that I am hiding my face because he uses his fingers to turn my chin to him and I still don't look at him.</p><p>"What were you trying to do?"</p><p>"What I achieved," I say in a fit of annoyance and sudden confidence, "that's what." He is very still for a moment, and there is just too much tension here for me to bear. I know he understands everything, and he knows that I know, and I am feeling the prick of shame in my soul.</p><p>"Pieck is just as alone as you are, Mikasa," he says gently, still trying to make me look at him. "She's more alone."</p><p>"Don't tell me that. I don't really care."</p><p>"Be that as it may," he says, and there is a sudden steeliness to his voice that makes me brace a little where I lie with him. "Don't be cruel to Jean. He is your friend. Try to understand."</p><p>I am ashamed. I wrench away from his hold on my chin. I am so ashamed that tears prick my eyes, but I regulate my breathing--I steady myself with a hand on his belly, yes, he's warm and solid and he's the body that I want--and I am well enough to change the topic. I think I tremble a little--I'm just seeing Jean's downcast face, I am trying to erase it from my mind, just as I am trying to erase Reiner's sudden tone with me. "We're going to reach the castle in the morning," I say softly as I lay on his chest. Once more it takes him a minute to speak, while I wait, balking at my own utter shittiness.</p><p>"Yes," he says just as softly as me, but there is still that tenseness from before. He is lying back now, his arm under his head and his free hand holding me firm against him.</p><p>"What's going to happen...?" I say at length, trying to calculate the logistics of getting ourselves to a private spot without being seen.</p><p>"I'll have you in a bed every night, woman," he whispers to me and when he kisses my fingertips, I get the feeling that he has silently agreed with himself to let go of his earlier disappointment in me, but he cannot hide that split-second look of trepidation.</p><p>"...do you think we'll get our own rooms?"</p><p>"I doubt that." He laughs a breathy laugh that makes his chest rumble under my head. It's so comfortable here... I can finally close my eyes.</p><p>"Don't fall asleep." It's a distant command, one which fails to rouse me beyond a vague awareness. "On your feet."</p><p>"Don't wanna move," I say.</p><p>I just want to keep my eyes closed. He kisses me, but it feels like so much more. It's like he's trying to say something, and it's like I'm responding in that hallucinatory space between sleep and alertness. <em>Wake up, sleepyhead.</em></p><p>"Shall I carry you?" He smells so good. So clean. He smells like rain, and trees. He feels so good. I just want to stay like this forever, and forget about everything else outside. Perhaps I could ask him to get away with me and just... Be here forever? In this fantasy of mine, he doesn't say no to me. I giggle a bit, surprising myself with this new sound I didn't know I could even make. But he's being completely serious. "What, really?" He nods with an expression that makes it clear that he wasn't joking.</p><p>"What do you take me for, a girl who takes a piggyback ride on the second night?"</p><p>"It's the third night, and there is no shame in wanting one."</p><p>"Pull me up," I say as I stretch my hand out. When he stands he takes me by both my arms, hauls me to my feet. I fall against him, feel all the heat radiating from his body to mine.</p><p>We walk together on our way home. I shudder at the thoughts that run through me, faint lights flickering against the fog. I can already feel all the horrid things chasing sleep away. I will wake up half-dead tomorrow, I can tell you that this very instant, dear reader.</p><p>"Are you cold?"</p><p>"No, Reiner." It's a lie, and he knows it, because I am visible shuddering.</p><p>"Take my arm," he says as he offers it to me. I take it, and a warmth of a different kind possesses my body.</p><p>"Why are you so good to me?" I say, but I don't think he hears me because he doesn't say anything. <em>I certainly don't deserve it.</em></p><p>I don't notice, but we're close to camp because he does. "Do you have a change of clothes?" he says quietly.</p><p>"Packed up. Oh wait, yes. In my duffle."</p><p>"Go change." I do, and when I return to him in a pair of pants and a dark shirt he asks me where my soiled clothes are. Impatiently, he tells me to retrieve them. I am red in the face when I do. "I'll wash them up real fast, you get back inside."</p><p>"Can I help?"</p><p>"No. Go."</p><p>I don't think I really sleep that night. I'm just tossing and turning. I'm fairly certain I woke Hange up with my nonstop movement, because she lets out a loud <em>tsk </em>of annoyance and shushes me. Once more between dream and consciousness, I see things I do not want to see, and things I desperately want to see.</p><p>In the morning, with bleary eyes, I barely take into account the fact that people might notice my sudden change of clothes since last night. My clothes from last night, clean and dry, have appeared in my duffle. Plain dress, underwear... My scarf never left me.</p><p>I clutch these fresh clothes to my chest, closing my eyes and feeling a raging torrent of something within me. I don't know what. I just don't know.</p><p>"Mikasa?" says someone. I don't know who, I don't care. "Ready to move?"</p><p>"I fucked up." The words escape me before I can stop myself.</p><p>"What?" It's him who had spoken to me, Jean himself. My most innocent victime. I whip around, hiding myself behind my clothes as though they could make my shame disappear. He didn't really hear me, I suppose. If he had I'm sure his expression would be one of consternation, not of frustration.</p><p>"Yes, let's go."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry</p><p>Please let me know if there's any mistakes, and always your feedback means the world to me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. V</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Arrive at the castle. Take the wine, take everything.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's only a few hours away by cart and horse.</p><p>It's a dusty place, and it's massive. Mute, mummified Levi has little to say about the filth in this place; Hange has as many rooms as possible cleared up before he can complain, as well as the main hall that will presently serve as the mess.</p><p>I see little of Reiner; I'm paired with Pieck, whose load I start picking up out of sympathy as soon as I look at her stupidly pretty face and notice that she's got some severe dark circles under her eyes. The more I look at her, the more I notice her slouch. The girl can't even stand straight, and I feel a biting anger at Hange who put us both to doing the heavy unpacking while the men took care of bringing the stuff in from the carts. Pieck should have been put with the kids, who were doing... I'm not sure what, exactly. I just see them darting up and down the stairs, in and out of rooms.</p><p>I am so fucking ashamed of myself for yesterday that I just don't engage with her when she tries to speak to me. Eventually she gives up, and I am even more upset than I was. Not for the first time, I wish I had a time machine. I would have loved to speak to her. I would have been much happier not being a nasty bitch yesterday, especially after I was told off by Reiner at night.</p><p>I think of all the things I would do if I had a time machine. Firstly, I either wouldn't have met Eren the way I did, because I wouldn't have let my father open the door for those human traffickers. Or perhaps I would have told him to arm himself. Maybe, if I had failed in all of this, I would have convinced Eren not to join the military, to run away with me to the mountains and just... lived. Maybe I would have said yes to Eren when he was so clearly offering himself to me, on that night. That night he ran away, in Marley. In my next fantasy, I would not have been so fixated on Reiner. But this one is difficult to flesh out, purely because frankly, I do not know where it started. I don't know how it started. All I know is that all of a sudden, his presence made me warm and weak with desire.</p><p>I bury myself in my thoughts, and I'm not even close to being bored by the time everything is unloaded into the castle's boundaries, the horses are primed and fed, our carts are secured and covered and it's lunch time.</p><p>As it turns out, Gabi and Falco were put to exploring the place for food, for spare rooms, storage space, etcetera.</p><p>There is dried jerky in the storage rooms, as well as root vegetables which we boil and season with stuff I don't even know the name of in the pantry. It's mostly Hange who takes care of that, with some input from Levi, who seems to know what he is talking about through his muffled face.</p><p>After roughing it for days, eating while sitting on the floor or on wooden cartons with splinters and rough edges, this feels like a luxury. We are seated on long tables, with the seniors huddles together on the far end where they can monitor us and the entrance to the mess, and the rest of us sort of scattered about within our respective cliques. Jean, Connie, me next to him; Armin, slightly further away, not so curiously with Annie, who in turn is with Reiner, who is with Gabi, Falco, and Pieck.</p><p>Levi's bandage is undone just enough that his mouth is free to eat, and his scar is just barely visible. I try not to stare. I have no particular affection for him, but my deep admiration for the man makes it feel indecent for him to have been done up like this by some random cunt who just happened to end up with fucking titan power.</p><p>I try so, <em>so</em> hard to keep chewing on my jerky and vegetables, but my mouth is slack under the weight of my withheld tears.</p><p>We all look so pathetic together.</p><p>I have to excuse myself for a minute, making sure to drop some wet vegetables on my lap so nobody thinks anything of it.</p><p>I crush my palm against my eyes and just wail when I'm deep enough in the surrounding woods. I just shriek and shriek until my throat is hoarse, and I cannot bring myself to go back to the mess. The least I can do is wash off the food I dropped on my dress, the stain barely visible through my tears and my bleary eyes. I think I've been here for a solid hour; nobody comes after me. They probably don't even notice I'm not there. That's just as well.</p><p>We don't do much for the rest of the day. Reiner was wrong; we can apparently have our own rooms, for a change. It's such a welcome loveliness, the secret of having my own space to cry in.</p><p>Whoever lived here before us troubled themselves enough to strip the windows of their curtains as they fled, which I assume was done in a hurry; the furniture is still there, some of the bedding is still made and uncrumpled, and I find a bracelet hanging in a little porcelain dish within one of the rooms--the one meant to be mine. I don't really tell anybody, or try to think too much of it. These ghosts are not mine to disturb.</p><p>There is wine, found in the cellar by Falco--a lot of it, supposedly. And when I have a look myself I see it could last all of us even a month, with the heavy drinkers like Jean and all.</p><p>We break it open, some of them the barrels--I do notice Reiner is one of them--and some of us the cartons full of bottles--and I'm one from that bunch.</p><p>Down in the mess hall, everybody is saying it's delicious but to me it's just wine, and it's doing the job. I can't see straight, there is that pleasant fog clouding my better judgement. Food tastes delicious. It's a re-run of our lunch menu, but it's really <em>delicious</em> when I can't really taste it.</p><p>I look up across the table, and Reiner is already staring at me, in the middle of a big gulp of that red wine. He doesn't look away when I raise my eyebrow at his impudence. I break our eye contact first, and it feels like losing, but inside my belly is roiling in anticipation.</p><p>I get up, announce my retirement for the night, and everyone is too drunk to protest when I take a whole bottle of wine with me. Steady footsteps trail after me a short way--the heels of his nice Marleyan shoes, clicking on the stone floor, now worn from being used without break, without rest--a heavy hand weighs down on my shoulder and spins me around. My back hits the wall and he crushes his lips to mine. With his tongue he coaxed my mouth open, and moans into our kiss when our mouth are wet from each other.</p><p>I taste the wine on his lips. He pulls me close, only to press me harder to the wall. His body is hard against mine, ropes of pure muscle covering every inch of his body, and I suddenly I can only think of how thick his cock is.</p><p>"Take me to bed," I whisper, pulling away from our kiss red-faced and with a single minded focus on getting fucked tonight.</p><p>I insist we go to my designated room rather than his. He nods, lets me lead the way, his warm hand clasped in mine. When we arrive, he remarks it's nicer than his room, but it's not much; there is a bed, and a table, and four walls. Reiner is satisfied.</p><p>He lifts me by the waist, puts me on the table, pushing my knees apart and grinding our hips together so his cock presses against my cunt, our pleasured breath mingling amidst open-mouthed kisses that make my vision flash behind closed eyes.</p><p>"Can I have some?" He says, glancing at my bottle of wine.</p><p>"No."</p><p>He takes it from me anyway, takes a swig that's a solid one fourth of the entire bottle.</p><p>"Thief...!"</p><p>"I'll get you more," he says as he kisses me, and I let him. "It's not like you would have had it all anyway."</p><p>"Yyyyyyou dunno that," I say. Maybe. Or something like anyway.</p><p>"Hah. I think I do."</p><p>I love the way he's looking at me. I lean back. I can hardly see straight, but everything is visible enough in the moonlight. I am tingling with the need to be exposed to him, to please him.</p><p>I take his hand and put it on my chest, and he knows what I want. He tugs lightly at my dress until it's loose at the top, and he can see where the gentle swell of my breasts. No more.</p><p>His eyes are on me, dark with focused energy despite the heavy haze created by our abusive consumption of stolen alcohol. With his hands braced against the table, he watches in awe as his pelvic thrusts makes them bounce lightly; I know I have beautiful breasts, high and round, but I can't tell what he's thinking with that narrow-eyed stare of his--maybe they're too small? Maybe he's used to bigger women?--so in a fit of nervousness I try to hide myself.</p><p>"None of this," he says in a rough voice, grabbing my lapels in his fists and yanking them in opposite directions so buttons go flying off my dress, which is now beyond repair. I shriek, and it's part delight, part shock, when he holds my arms down tight behind me with one hand so I can't cover myself.</p><p>"Oh, God..." he mutters as he cups one of my breasts again, and when he brushes his thumb against my nipple it's like a flash of electricity that makes me press my hips against him, makes me arch up and press my body to his. I wrap my arms loosely around his neck, gasping and hissing every time I feel that delicious friction on my nipple. My head lolls back against the wall and he puts his mouth on mine, our tongues touching.</p><p>"You've got the prettiest nipples," he whispers against my mouth, as he bends and I exclaim in shock at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth at my sensitive, pink flesh. He kisses it at first, and when my nipple is hard and he sucks on it, sucking and releasing as I bury my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and going insane from the pleasure.</p><p>"Oh, Reiner, fuck me," I moan, "please, I want you inside me, oh God--"</p><p>"Turn around. Up against the wall." Those are the only words he says to me. There is a churning in my belly as he forces me to obey with both his hands on my waist. I let it happen, dizzy and weak from the full awareness that he could do whatever he wants with me and I could never stop him.</p><p>His hands sneak under my skirt, he hikes them up to my waist and grinds against my hips.</p><p>"Oh, hah," I gasp nervously as his erection presses against my arse, darting away a little.</p><p>"You'll like it," he rasps as he stills my hips, "trust me."</p><p>He doesn't take off my knickers, just pulls them aside under my skirt and he guides his erection into the opening he created, pushes into my cunt with a soft groan and a swift thrust. It's easy. I'm dripping wet, and when he tells me as much I angle my head back to kiss him. I think he's already close to finishing by the deep, guttural groans, so I push him off me. His stomach is firm and warm under my fingers, and it flutters with frustration when I keep him away from me.</p><p>"Don't," I plead. "Don't come before me."</p><p>"I won't," he says softly, and i detect a distinct tone of admiration even through my drunkenness as he wrenches my arm away, pushes himself back into me and stills before thrusting, slowly at first, every time with unrestrained grunts of pleasure. "I won't, madam..."</p><p>Reaching around, he has to pull apart my top again because somehow it slipped back on, and my breasts are out. He cups them, feels them up and squeezes until I moan in delight and twist my head around to kiss him, to taste his mouth, as he tweaks my nipples until my underwear is soaked through, making an absolute mess of his cock and possibly his trousers, which are still halfway on.</p><p>He makes me lean forward now, with his fist twisted in my hair to hold me in place as he fucks me like this, both of us drunk and noisy without a care in the world.</p><p>Once more I think he's about to come when his brutal thrusts leave me breathless entirely and with a savage groan he bites my earlobe. I shriek, push him off, twist around to bite his neck and he roars in pain.</p><p>"Bitch," he spits as he grabs my neck and tosses me onto the bed like I'm some doll, using his knees to kick my legs apart, but before he can enter me again I flip us over and I'm on top.</p><p>I impale myself on his cock, which is there, flushed and ready, pointing up expectantly. I roll my hips, and he hisses as he holds me by the waist, making me move faster and faster against him until he's bucking up helplessly.</p><p>I ride him so hard that even he's panting and sweating by the end of it.</p><p>"Fuck, Mikasa, fuck! You're so good, do that again!" He lets go of my waist, touching my breasts, teasing my nipples with his fingers.</p><p>"Fuck," I moan when my opening rubs against him <em>just</em> right, and with a tremble I moan, long and low, as my orgasm takes over me, head to toe, an electrifying pleasure that's almost unbearable even to him because inside me, I'm squeezing his cock so hard that he grunts and I can feel his nail digging into my soft thigh.</p><p>With a hand on my back to hold me firm so he doesn't slip out, he turns us over so he's on top again. It doesn't take long: with a chokehold on my throat with his strong fingers, his mouth as my breast, he thrusts into me and takes what he wants from my body.</p><p>"Ah, fuck yes," he chokes out as he shudders against me, harder than he ever has, and his erection is twitching in my cunt as I feel the seed release deep inside me.</p><p>"Oh God, yes, yes, yes!" I call out, I almost come again at this point, completely limp as he prolongs his orgasm by pushing, in and out, slowly, shallow, hissing through gritted teeth as he does so. I hold onto him, my head hanging back on the pillow and my consciousness spinning out of control from the alcohol, from Reiner's heat, from this moment of pure ecstasy.</p><p>Soon enough, still inside me, when he comes down from it, he realises what he's just done. He pulls out fast, rolls over next to me.</p><p>"Shit," he says as he covers his flushed face in shame and panic. "Holy shit."</p><p>"It's done now," I say, fighting against my slurring tongue, drunkenly as I bring him in for another kiss. I am fully aware that some part, some drunken part, of him liked this, liked coming deep inside me, because he's kissing me back with full force, and we don't stop until he touches my nipples again, caressing my waist, and he's hard again and ready to fuck me.</p><p>He comes inside me again, because I tell him to, and <em>it doesn't make sense to take care now because it's already done</em>, and I think a third time in the middle of the night when we accidentally touch each other's bodies in a blind panic, reaching for weapons that aren't really there when the crashing sound of a bottle outside makes us gasp awake at the same time.</p><p>In the hours of violence that he inflicts on my body, amidst the pure thrill of being in the most intimate embrace of someone who once wanted to kill me, I recall the feeling of being watched as we left the mess hall together to do this, again, and my mind is too drunk to appreciate anything but the fact that nobody tried to stop us from going so I was right to do this, fully entitled to enjoying this bed, this room, and our bodies together.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> * * *</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, downstairs, Connie lifts his head, one eye squeezed shut in his drunken stupor. The others are awake, speaking quietly mostly save for the overly rowdy laughter--which awoke him in the first place--minus those two who have gone off again. He tries to say as much, but nobody appears to understand.</p><p>"Those two have gone off again..."</p><p>"Dude, you're drooling on the table."</p><p>"Hng... Reiner."</p><p>"<em>Gross</em>," says Jean under his breath, pretending to read a book he supposedly found in his room but even he can barely keep his eyes open.</p><p>"Ah, Mi--Mi--..."</p><p>"Shut your mouth and pass out, how about it."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There's a plot I swear it's not just smut &lt;3 I hope you can see that</p><p>... alright it's mostly smut but doesn't mean there's no plot. Slow burn, I believe one of you called it? that's it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Empty Sectors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Teams are sent out to explore nearby regions to acquire news. Reiner and Mikasa have a little spat and then... guess what?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Suddenly I've got one eye open, squawking indignantly at the sun which streams through the uncovered window. As I become aware of my surroundings, and the heavy, warm body pressed up to mine, the previous night's events come back to me. I bolt upright.</p><p>"Oh my God. Wake up." I shake him, but he might as well have been dead. "Reiner, wake up! Jesus!" I can't move my legs; I look down at myself, and there I am, mostly naked in my now non-existent dress, which has been shredded from collar to navel, and is now wrapped around my midsection and barely covering my thighs.</p><p>He groans, face pressed into the pillow, and as if on queue the knocking starts at the door--the probably <em>unlocked</em> door. I think fast; I roll Reiner off the bed, and he lands with a heavy thud and a gasp which I try to muffle in a loud fit of coughing just as the door swings open and Hange emerges from it with an expression of panic. My hands fly up to cover my breasts, crossed over my chest.</p><p>"There you are," she says, her agitation giving way to a supremely pissed off snarl on her face. "We were looking for you."</p><p>"I--I--Commander, I was here all night. This is the room that was assigned to me."</p><p>"... We put you with Annie and myself, Mikasa, all of us together downstairs."</p><p>"What? When?"</p><p>"When you weren't listening, clearly. Anyway, I don't care," she says as she takes in my partial--in fact, almost complete--nudity. "What happened to your clothes?"</p><p>"Ummm--I ran into a nail hanging out the door and my dress got hooked on it so I couldn't leave this room--" I'm squinting to death; I can barely see her through my thumping brain and the volume of my voice plummets as I feel a wave of aggravation roll off of her.</p><p>"Just--cover yourself up and get downstairs. There's no running water in the en suites, so don't bother. To the servant's quarter for your shower." She slams the door shut behind her, and I am still in shock when Reiner pokes his head over the bed.</p><p>He looks fucked up, hair all spiky and clothes trashed... but my heart squeezes within my chest when he gives me a grin. He can barely keep his eyes open either. I just barely become aware of the throbbing in my temples.</p><p>"Jesus." he says, "I should go out the window."</p><p>"Give me your shirt," I say to him, and since the top few buttons are either undone or broken he promptly hauls it over his head and tosses it at my face. It falls in my lap. It smells like him, like fading cologne and musk. I dismiss the thought, and yet I simply lack the presence of mind to pick it up and cover myself better.</p><p>"Wait," he says as he turns away from the window and walks over to me, still in bed, "you really think people won't notice you wearing my shirt?"</p><p>"You think they'll notice my lack of clothes any less?" I say in a hiss. I hold up an edge of my torn dress to show him what he's done.</p><p>"Aha," he chuckles.</p><p>"How can you laugh?" There is a pause between us, and just as I take in his chest, muscular and bunched up as he leans over the bed, his eyes briefly roam my calves, my thighs, my arms pressed to my breasts to cover myself up--which probably only serve to emphasise them. I loosen my grip a little and he looks me straight in the eye. "Go," I say with a tremble, pointing my finger at the window without moving my arms, my face suddenly warm. I am terrified of the bubbling in my belly that comes simply as a result of a single look from him.</p><p>He comes to drop a kiss on my temple anyway. His lips are so delicate against my skin. "You've got very pretty breasts," he says softly as he gestures at my tattered dress and pushes the window open, heaving himself through before I can start stammering something at him.</p><p>I probably look like some criminal, throwing furtive glances all around me so nobody sees me on the way to get myself some clothes. I <em>am</em> a criminal. I'm horrible, I'm the worst.</p><p>I'm wandering around a bit, having been either absent or drunk the entire day yesterday; I can't figure out the way to the showers so I can freshen up a bit, and wash off the semen smeared all around the inside of my thighs.</p><p>"Water's warm in the servant's quarters..." She briefly points to the shower with her thumb. It's Pieck, staring at the floor, leaning against the stone wall with her arms crossed and face down, shoulders nearly all the way curled on herself. 'You missed breakfast prep. It's probably going to be disgusting because nobody payed attention to Levi and Hange's instructions, and they're all hungover as fuck."</p><p>"Thanks."</p><p>I decide to spoil myself, because I tell myself I deserve it, as though I haven't been spoiling myself for days now. I run myself a warm, steamy bath, and I take my time. I resort to stealing the plain soap that's already been used, because I forgot to bring my own toiletry bag. There is a violation in using someone else's soap and I'm not happy about it, but what can I do. Putting my tattered clothes back on is likewise unpleasant because I can't figure out which way is up or down anymore due to the state of it after Reiner shredded it last night, but again what can I do. With my arms pressing the cloth up to cover myself I do dash over to our supply crates, where my duffle is, to get a change of clothes, and I feel somewhat better when I slip on an article with intact buttons before making my way to the others.</p><p>In the main hall, there's no Reiner, and there's no news of the rumbling because we're so far from populated civilisation. Everybody is quite silent; in vain, I hope the rumbling stopped so I'll have to stop thinking about things. I just don't want to think anymore.</p><p>In all reality, I realise it's probably that word is just not travelling at all.<br/>Pieck was right: our little crew had to deal with breakfast on their own because Hange is busy with Levi (<em>supposedly </em>for his bandages). Nobody really says anything to me but I can sense the irritation in my teammates' faint chattering in the background.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, it's not like the Lady Mikasa has to help us out, is it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Be quiet, you muppet. None of us have been working harder than her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anyway, when you do think we'll go back out?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not any time soon, the way we're looking.</em>
</p><p>I mostly manage to tune it out; although I also try to unsuccessfully focus on it. All I can really think about is the thrum in my head, my heart, aching to get a peek of Reiner soon... But he is nowhere to be seen.</p><p>It's a large pot of root vegetables in a watery sauce, with rice. I help dish it out into wooden bowls and set the spoons, head heavy from the guilt of knowing the reason for my tardiness. When I sit down to taste the food, it really doesn't taste like much, but it's food. I am busy wondering how Reiner might act around me after last night. We slept in the same bed for the first time. He touched me all over, I can still feel his warm hand on my breast, his mouth--</p><p>I shake myself out of it.</p><p>When Hange arrives, a moment after the Azumabito engineers I propose, with a trembling hand, that we get our own rooms, because I want to keep the one upstairs and it's more restful to be alone and we need to rest and why not take advantage of this luxury? We could be gone in a blast, tomorrow. Who knows what might happen, tomorrow. Right now, it's all about now. An appreciative mutter goes all around the mess, and when Levi starts coughing Hange just doesn't care enough to protest so I suppose I win this one.</p><p>No matter how the rest of the day goes, I have successfully secured my discretion with Reiner and that's a significant achievement.</p><p>Just as the murmur settles down, Reiner appears, slightly red and fresh from a bath, wearing a nice, crisp shirt. I feel a flush at the sight of him; when I dare to take a peek he seems to notice, as if by instinct, and suddenly he's staring at me across this full room, but not quite; it's a delicate sort of glance, the one you can't be certain is really there. To be perfectly clear, I know that his attention is solely focused on me. Shy from last night's events, from him having seen so much of my flesh in the light of the moon, I turn away, almost into the wall. But despite my body's instincts to hide, I cannot help but allow myself to take a peek up at him. He lifts his eyes at the same time. In fact, he's facing my direction in an unnatural way, straddling his part of the bench as though it were a horse and pretty much having a clear sight all the way across the table.</p><p>Soon enough I realise it's not just him with eyes on me; one glance at the vet's section, and I know that Levi is not paying attention to Hange's distracted chattering. When our eyes meet, my heart stops in fright, but he swiftly goes back to listening to Hange. Closer to where I am seated, Connie's eyes are fixed on his porridge despite my attempts to talk to him, as are Pieck's, who is sitting closer to us than usual.</p><p>I therefore acquire an instant overview of my threats.</p><p>In a flash I turn to Jean. I ask him how his night was, how his head is after his bender last night. He's scoffing at me, telling me he can take a lot more than that and still manage titans using his ODMG. He then turns and asks if <em>I'm</em> alright, if I had a fine night.</p><p>"A fine night, indeed," Reiner says quite forcefully.</p><p>Suddenly, I am no longer hungry, and quite distracted, playing with my food rather than eating it. The stew or whatever it is actually tastes pretty disgusting, a fact that I only realised a moment ago. In fact I am barely aware of anything but my worried thoughts and Reiner's severe glares until I realise the Corps is already in the middle of setting up teams to explore the surrounding area.</p><p>At first Reiner is happy to sit this one out, agreeing when Hange says he and Annie should rest and recover as much as possible before we get into another skirmish, but when he realises that I'm being sent out instead of helping him hold down the fort he jumps up.</p><p>"I'll come along," he says. "Need to stretch my legs anyway."</p><p>"Reiner, shh!" hisses Annie, who probably just wants to sleep all day again. I don't blame her. I want to sleep too. But with Reiner. Worse for her, she hasn't grown an inch while we filled out and became adults, strong and tall. She was tiny to begin with. He acts like he didn't hear her, and Hange levels an impatient look at Annie.</p><p>"Alright, so Reiner, Armin, and myself to the East... and Jean, you with Mikasa and Connie--"</p><p>Reiner suddenly cuts in again. "Actually Mikasa is the only one who can fight me, so I think I should go with her."</p><p>"Why should there be a fight, Reiner?" says Connie quite pointedly.</p><p>Armin decides to speak up. "Shouldn't the shifters stay back and watch over the engineers? And the Captain? You can't leave this place undefended. Just in case."</p><p>"I think the shifters should stay back," adds Annie helpfully.</p><p>"But should we be leaving Reiner alone with Captain Levi?" says Connie in alarm, in a low voice to Hange. I know that Reiner does hear him because he looks away, acting as though he didn't.</p><p>"He's our best defence," says she.</p><p>"He's the enemy's best <em>offence</em>."</p><p>"He won't be alone," says Jean. "The engineers are here."</p><p>"Like <em>they'd</em> be any good in a fight," says Connie. "No offence."</p><p>"Gentlemen," Hange says, suddenly stony, just how she sounded when she found me half-naked in bed, "this is not a democracy. And your argument is moot. I don't care who goes with who, at any rate here it is how it is going to be: Connie and Mikasa with Reiner. To the West. Armin and Jean with me to the East. Cover a six hour radius, and keep a low profile. That means no uniforms. Move out as soon as you're ready."</p><p>"Commander!" exclaims Armin. He buzzes on about something, something, Colossal titans, uniforms blah blah. I've lost interest in this conversation because I feel slighted by having Connie with us.</p><p>When we're preparing to pack, I dust off my uniform jacket.</p><p>"Mikasa, were you listening? No uniforms, I said."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>The kids, who have pretty much overnight become our slaves for the grunt work in their eagerness to participate in the adult stuff, pack enough food and water to last the day and camping equipment for emergencies, and all together we load our day's supplies on the horses.</p><p>Ache in my torso as I stretch over to buckle up my brown mare. And it's got nothing to do with the discomfiting company of Hange, knowing the state she saw me in earlier today.</p><p>"It feels like rain," I say quietly, and everyone whips around to look at me.</p><p>"What?" says Hange</p><p>"Rain." They're still staring at me.</p><p>"Ribs?" says Jean as his horse wickers.</p><p>"Yes." He's the only one who remembers my broken ribs. Nobody else remembers, ever. Not even Armin. "It's going to rain hard." It's embarrassing to say that when the air is dry and crisp, and the sky is bright and blue, but having Connie so close to Reiner and myself for hours alone together fills me with dread and as with all things, I wish to avoid the difficult things for as long as possible.</p><p>"We can't delay explorations on a hunch," says Hange urgently. "We need to know what's happening, and this is our best bet. Time is absolutely of the essence. Newspapers, gossip, witness accounts--however unlikely--grab anything you can. Turn back if it gets ugly."</p><p>"Yes, Commander," we say in unison.</p><p>I am clad in my trousers again. It's a welcome comfort, although I mourn the nice breeze around my ankles from wearing dresses. The men are loading up our horses' saddles with a day's provisions while I mess around with the light equipment we'll be carrying.</p><p>"You look worn, Mikasa," says Jean. "You sure you're up for this? With the ribs and all?"</p><p>"Can't go avoiding the rain forever."</p><p>His heavy hands comes up to squeeze my shoulder. "I'd say you're better off staying back with the others."</p><p>My cheeks are flaming because I can see Reiner staring straight at us out of the corner of my eye. The warmth of Jean's hand radiates through my clothes. I turn away, saying nothing and displacing his touch as gently as I can before I swing myself up onto my horse, wincing at the muscles that ache from yesterday's pounding.</p><p>At the pain, the previous night's events rush through my system. Reiner, with Connie in tow, soon join my at my flanks; he's on my right, directly behind me and waiting for my signal to start moving, while I await Hange's.</p><p>"Move out," she shouts.</p><p>My horse is soon heaving under me. We're riding fast, not word exchanged between us, in a triangular formation mere feet apart.</p><p>Barely a few hours later, it's suddenly all too much, the dull ache in my ribs that radiates through my torso. I gasp, yanking on my reins to slow down to a trot. Inadvertently I catch a glance at the veins on Reiner's forehead when he whips around to look at me. His horse rears at the jarring stop. As if on cue, the clouds thunder.</p><p>"Turn back," he calls at Connie.</p><p>"I can go on," I say under my breath, and somehow he understands me above the commotion of the clouds.</p><p>"We can't afford you spending a decade in recovery!" he shouts over the thunder. "Turn around!"</p><p>"No," I spit, but weakly, without conviction.</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>, now turn!"</p><p>"I'll make it! I see a rice paddy!" There are groans of discontent around me, the usual sort:</p><p>"Mikasa, why are you like this?" shouts Connie.</p><p>"You're not being responsible." That was Reiner.</p><p>"You're going to get us stuck out here!"</p><p>"There's a settlement," I exclaim, "that must mean we're close to town somehow..."</p><p>"Yes, but it doesn't make sense to press on! We don't have enough supplies to last us the night if we have to set up camp--"</p><p>I, as the de facto leader of this team, keep galloping on, so they have to follow.</p><p>Nobody is happy when the clamour of the thunder and rain grows so dense that we can no longer communicate, and soon enough gesturing to turn back is likewise becoming impossible through the fog and the chilly humidity just as we reach a hut on the opposite side of the paddy.</p><p>There's a workman's shed, where we wordlessly rush to tie the horses. I struggle a little with the hair plastered to my forehead getting into my eyes and blinding me, so Connie and Reiner help me as they hush my horse and drag her inside.</p><p>We're all soaked through, shivering from the cold.</p><p>"What now, genius?" spits Connie, shucking his jacket and unbuttoning his blouse as Reiner does the same. "I told you we'd get stuck out here. There's not enough food to last us the day, never mind tomorrow. It's freezing cold and it's impossible to get firewood in this weather...!" I cannot help but drop my gaze to stare at my feet in shame, even though they wordlessly turn away as my fingers reach for the first button of my blouse and quickly reach into the duffle to change into something dry--the first thing that my fingers catch an old dress that I figured would help me blend better in town. As soon as I shrug it over my head, I remove my wet trousers.</p><p>"You're a fucking clown Mikasa, you know that?" continues Connie</p><p>"Stop it," says Reiner with some steel in his voice which only seems to aggravate Connie. I catch a quick glimpse of the muscles rippling on his back as he shrugs on a button down top. "She's not well. Can't you see?"</p><p>"Oh look, it's the knight in shining armour. Whatever. I'm going to check if there's anything left to scrounge for tomorrow... Looks like it's going to be a long night, fellas." We hang out our wet clothes over wooden beams.</p><p>"I'll take care of the horses," says Reiner as he immediately drags a chair up the horses and seats himself to inspect their hooves, starting with mine.</p><p>"I'll get dinner going," I whisper.</p><p>"Yeah, you do that, Mikasa," Connie hisses. He leaves the shed, ducking his head to protect himself from the rain towards the farmer's lodge.</p><p>"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" Reiner exclaims, as soon as Connie is out of earshot.</p><p>I shrug. "They've all had it out for me since Eren lost his mind."</p><p>"Eren, Eren, Eren, it's always Eren, isn't it."</p><p>"Don't be like that."</p><p>"Except when it's Jean. Right? He's been plenty nice to you. Surely <em>he</em> doesn't have it out for you?"</p><p>"Stop."</p><p>"Will he save you, when the time comes? Will he spare your precious Eren?"</p><p>"Stop."</p><p>"No he won't. He won't care."</p><p>"I said stop."</p><p>He levels a hard look at me, then shakes his head, looking straight at me while I stare at his shoes. "I'm telling you, stop messing with Jean."</p><p>"What makes you think I'm messing with him?"</p><p>"Don't play me for the fool."</p><p>"I'm sorry," I say more harshly than I mean to.</p><p>"I know you will be," he says a little tersely, adding nothing more.</p><p>"You don't need to be jealous of him."</p><p>"I'm not <em>jealous</em>. And weren't you supposed to be taking care of food?" Despite the clear dismissal I stubbornly keep staring at him. He doesn't so much look at me.</p><p>"Aren't you going to tell me off for getting us stuck here?"</p><p>"You know what you did," he says gruffly.</p><p>"Aren't you going to say something?"</p><p>"Are you <em>trying</em> to pick a fight?"</p><p>I grab the bag of food from the saddlebags and dart away before I have to subject myself to more humiliation.</p><p>It's cold sausages with hard cheese and dry bread. The rain shows no signs of abating, so I obviously cannot use firewood freshen up the food until I call for Connie to help me, at which point he comes down from the attic and with a sour expression on his face uses a flint to fire up the chimney. I set out small portions of food onto our metal plates to have enough left over for tomorrow, suddenly paranoid of Connie's comment in case he can't find anything for extra supplies and the rain doesn't subside. I lay it out on the rough wooden table in the hut, nice as I can. Connie has left to examine the basement.</p><p>"I'll fetch Reiner when I'm done down there; you stay here and watch the food. I saw mice droppings. Bastards will run off with the food."</p><p>I sit alone for a minute, then return to the shed to seek out Reiner out of boredom and frustration. He still looks pissed, with his jaw set and eyebrows drawn, flicking globs of muck from my horse's shoe with a screwdriver that I suppose he found in the shed. I am cowering at the mere state of his face, all dark-eyed and scowly.</p><p>"What's up? Food ready?" he says politely when he spots me.</p><p>"Um... You were with me, last night, right?" I don't know why I say that. Perhaps it's the nerves. He's seen me, he's touched me and made me come before finishing inside me, and now we're the closest thing to a fight ever since I started this thing with him. I feel like a boiling lobster at the thought of it.</p><p>"Um, yeah," he says with a lightly mocking tone. "unless you managed to clone yourself." He lets go of the horse's leg, stretching his neck with a huff before he faces me.</p><p>"Managed to what myself?" I ask in a fading voice. I back off into the wall as he approaches.</p><p>"Never mind." And then, stepping closer still, he adds, "Did you like it?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>He's leaning in close to me, he braces his arm against the wall. In the darkening light, his eyes reflect the glare of the foggy sun like gold. "Last night. Did you like it?" He lowers his lips to mine then, without touching any other part of my body, and yet the warmth of his kiss makes me forget how cold it is outside.</p><p>When he pulls away, I have to avert my gaze. My heart flutters under his mild gaze, his relaxed demeanour, all in his casual Marleyan dressing with button down shirt tucked in his trousers and I want to cry out that <em>yes, yes I liked it so much, yes take me like that again</em> but the words that come out of my mouth are, "Hange saw me."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"This morning. And I think she saw you too, but I'm not sure, probably not."</p><p>"Mikasa, I've been seen fully undressed so many times by captains and teammates that I can't even count anymore, and they never think anything of it."</p><p>"But you were with me. And missing at the same time. Apparently they changed our boarding arrangement... and honestly, just look at what you did to my clothes. You know what the fraternisation laws are like in the Corps..."</p><p>"Well, my shirt was missing and I was walking through the front door with all these marks on my face, but it wasn't so bad. Also," he adds, "I'm technically not <em>in</em> the corps. So I'm not bound by their rules."</p><p>"But I am."</p><p>"Ah. I suppose you are."</p><p>"This is going to be an absolute mess if we aren't careful," I say, so bashful that I still can't face him fully.</p><p>"It will be."</p><p>"What happened to your cheek?" I ask, quite suddenly noticing a stupid-looking purple bruise just above his jaw, barely concealed by his stubble.</p><p>"You bit me."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"It couldn't have been me."</p><p>"And yet it was."</p><p>He's right, it was me, when I was too drunk to process what I was doing. And he does look like a horror. Minus the mark on his neck which is clearly a human bite, there's purple bruises littering his neck, his jaw line. "What, can't you just heal them?"</p><p>"I can only heal open cuts and broken bones, dammit. Now I gotta walk around looking like a clown."</p><p>"... just say you got into a fight, if anyone asks? You'll look better tomorrow anyway."</p><p>"With who, the mirror? It's not exactly like we're drowning in people to fight. And people <em>have</em> been asking, by the way. Annie asked me where I managed to find a whorehouse so fast. Never mind that I had to come in through the front door without a shirt on."</p><p>I draw back at his tone, at his words. "Like... a badger or something?" He laughs at me. "I'm sorry about your face."</p><p>"Och, don't be. I told 'em I fell asleep in the forest."</p><p>"... and lost your shirt?"</p><p>"Nah. They didn't ask."</p><p>"I take it that must happen often, then."</p><p>He shakes his head, muttering something to himself, but I can see a little smile tugging at his lips. "Whatever, you can laugh," he says as he redirects himself to the horse to get back to work, "just hope to <em>fuck</em> I didn't get you pregnant."</p><p>A spike of pure excitement shoots through my body at his words. He chucks my chin as he turns away, and I am too confused to respond, but he promptly falls back a step when he spots Connie squinting at us through the dark, standing by the door.</p><p>"I came to bring you a lantern," he says faintly. "And... There's a place to sleep upstairs..."</p><p>"Great," says Reiner, a little too cheerfully.</p><p>"Dinner's ready, by the way," I add. "There's a table in the back of the hut..." Connie is staring at Reiner, and Reiner is staring at Connie. "I'm hungry, let's go eat?" I say in a quick breath. Connie turns on his heels and leaves.</p><p>"You've got to be more careful, Mikasa," Reiner says quietly as we move out back into the rain and towards the hut. "I can't guarantee you won't get a serious dressing down from Hange and the Captain if you get busted."</p><p>"We."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"<em>We've</em> got to be more careful."</p><p>He scoffs. "Sure, but it's not my reputation on the line."</p><p>"Sure it is."</p><p>"Well... I suppose it is, but I'm not female, and I'm not of the Scouts. Remember?"</p><p>"I suppose."</p><p>In the farmer's barracks, we keep our distance. Connie refuses to look at either one of us as he picks at his food, and so we eat in silence. Connie is the first one to push away from the table and rinse his plate with a rusty pitcher, and after that Reiner cleans his dish.</p><p>"What an exhausting day," says Connie as he stretches, his shirt riding up to expose his stomach a little. "I was really hoping to get back to the wine cellar by nightfall..."</p><p>"Obviously not happening," says Reiner as he points outwards to the pouring rain.</p><p>"Whatever. I know. Need help with anything, anybody?" That was a completely half hearted offer, one which I would have never taken either way.</p><p>"I'll get back to tend to the horses... Go to sleep, both of you. We've got another long day ahead tomorrow."</p><p>Up through a run down set of wooden stairs, there is a row of those horrid straw bed that make me itch all over. Connie doesn't care; he sleeps as soon as his head hits the hay. I know this because he starts snoring immediately.</p><p>I turn away from the noise, and I try my best to keep my eyes closed and empty my mind... But I recall him leaning over me earlier, pressing his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. I love how he smelled. It was clean, it's like a rainforest, raw and green.</p><p>I wonder what he's doing. I consider joining him. It's cold in the shed, it's not right to leave him out there alone, right?</p><p>I tiptoe my way down, I dash out into the darkness and gently open the door to the shed.</p><p>He's done with the horses, clearly. I can see him half-bathed in the light from outside, the light from the lantern. He's sitting there with his head hanging back and arms crossed over his chest, quietly observing me. For a split second, I see shock on his face.</p><p>"Connie's asleep," I say at length, standing by the door in hesitance when he doesn't respond. I leaf again and again through the miserable memories of this day, of my behaviour and his harsh words.</p><p>I fidget with the hem of my dress a little, looking everywhere but at his cool gaze. Eventually he gestures at me to approach with his fingers, which I do. Standing before him, I reach for the hem of my skirt, having assumed that he's called me forward in anticipation of our customary trysts.</p><p>"I didn't really expect you to come to me tonight," he says softly.</p><p>My cold fingers just barely graze my calf just as Reiner's hand snaps onto my wrist and stills me.</p><p>"Stop." He speaks quite plainly, in a voice that doesn't quite invite arguments. "I need you to know something."</p><p>"What?" I say in a voice so small I barely even recognise it as my own.</p><p>"I had made up my mind not to fuck you tonight, you know that?" I flush at how brazenly he says these words, calm as ever, but somehow his audacity gives me the courage to look him straight in the eye.</p><p>"If you want me to be sorry for getting us grounded here, this is not the way to do it." I speak blandly, merely stating facts.</p><p>He pulls me down to him with his fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, so I'm bending over him. "You're a disobedient and irresponsible." I turn away, but he grabs my jaw and make me face him. I squeeze my eyes shut. "No, no, you will listen to what I have to say."</p><p>"So that's how it is," I whisper still not opening my eyes because I am afraid of what I will feel, seeing a stony expression on his normally gentle face.</p><p>"Open your eyes. Look at me."</p><p> If he thinks I'm going to cave under his abstinence-based threats, he is dead wrong. "No, thank you. Let go of me."</p><p>"Mikasa..." There's an edge of uncertainty in his voice, and instantly I know that I've got to keep hammering at it.</p><p>"I would like to go, now." I slip out of his grip without opening my eyes, and he surges to his feet to grab me by the shoulders.</p><p>"Mikasa!" he growls, as close to yelling at me as I've ever seen him.</p><p>"If you have something to say, say it now. I need to go and rest."</p><p>"Mulish to the last," he mumbles, and my eyes fly open in anger just in time to see him watching me with simmering anger, shaking his head slowly.</p><p>"Me, mulish?" He stills at the sudden change in my tone. "Have you met yourself? Refusing me as retribution for doing what I thought right, knowing fully well that we could die any day and not having lived our full lives?"</p><p>"So what, that's all this means to you? Living your full life."</p><p>"Yes Reiner, <em>yes</em>," I spit. "That's all it is." One look in his suddenly shiny eyes and I know that with my short few words I might have taken it too far. My own eyes prick at the guilt in my chest, but I refuse to take back my words.</p><p>I choke out a gasp when his face suddenly tightens in pure rage and he shakes me until my head rattles.</p><p>"Why me? Why did you pick me, to torment and kick around like a toy?"</p><p>"You're the one who started this fight, Reiner. Who's kicking who around?"</p><p>Without warning he spins me around and tosses me directly into the chair with such force. I am ready to jump right out of it and hit him, but his hands snap over mine, pinning them to the armrests.</p><p>He's the one leaning over me now, breathing hard as though this sort of roughing around arouses him somehow. I don't see his face; my hair is plastered all over my eyes.</p><p>"Do you want to kill me, Reiner?"</p><p>"<em>What</em>?"</p><p>He releases me then, stumbling back. I toss my head to free my vision, and I cannot describe the mixture of fright and disgust on his face.</p><p>"Or to <em>fuck</em> me?"</p><p>He points a forefinger at me, his chest heaving and eyes wild as he paces back and forth like a caged lion. "You're fucking crazy. You're completely fucking insane. You can't talk to me like that."</p><p>I raise my skirt so my thighs are exposed, almost all the way up. He's not impressed. Then my fingers rise to the buttons of my dress, I pop one open, then two, then three, down to the valley of my breasts, and finally I earn it; the ghost of that look that men get when their brains start fogging over, the frightening intensity of Jean's eyes, or that of unknown men passing by, confused and curious, <em>aroused</em> by my unusual looks.</p><p>"Maybe as insane as you. So make up your bloody mind."</p><p>His mouth comes crashing down on mine, he kneels between my legs, he kisses down the column of my throat as far as my dress will allow.</p><p>"You win," he breathes in the middle of our kiss, "congratulations."</p><p>"Thanks," I try to say calm as I can but my heart is pounding within my chest.</p><p>"Promise me you'll start being good," he rumbles, desperately pawing at my body, pulling me to the edge of the chair so our hips join together, hitching up my skirt up higher with rough hands so it's just his trousers and my knickers separating us. "Promise you'll stop toying with Jean, or risking the entire operation to stop the rumbling in your carelessness, you know my horse almost tripped in the fog today...? Did you even notice how Connie's nearly bashed into yours just before we were blinded?"</p><p>"I never--" he cuts me off with a hard kiss, his mouth bruising my lips. He bites me, his nails dig into the flesh of my thigh. I protest in pain. "Reiner--"</p><p>"I've known you to be foolish and selfish all along--and yes, yes, I was angry, I still am--and yet I've thought of nothing but your breasts all day," he whispers hotly into my neck, dotting my pale flesh with kisses and forcing me to grind my hips against his with hard hands clutching the top of my arse. "Nothing but your sweet body, nothing but that scent of yours. Your filthy moans." Suddenly I don't care what he says anymore. I can see how his chest is rising and falling. I think I see the beginning of a hardness in his trousers after a surreptitious glance downwards that could be mistaken for an expression of shame. I'm not worried; I will get what I want. "You're going to be the death of me, Mikasa, you're making me insane--"</p><p>At this point I push his face away, confused and dazed by the flurry of heated confessions pouring out of him. "Don't."</p><p>"And your nipples are so delicate," he whispers, thumbing at the peak of my breast, dragging me back to him by holding me firm at the waist when I whimper at the sudden flash of pleasure and try to scramble away. "Oh, God, I could die..." I feel the heat and wetness of his mouth on my nipple, now hard and sensitive, right through my dress. I moan, grinding against his cock as he hisses. He sucks on it, still not removing my top. He bites me and I muffle a small cry in his blonde head, now dry and soft again. My fingers are twisted in his head as he goes back to sucking on my breast, biting gently as he peeks up at me and I gasp in pleasure. He comes back up to kiss me, sliding his tongue into my mouth and brushing his lips against mine until I am light-head and red in the face. I am acutely aware of the coldness of the room, more so now that my dress is wet where Reiner put his mouth on me. He seems to realise that, because soon he is relentlessly sucking on my other nipple and I am impatiently rubbing my cunt, wet and aching, against his bulging trousers.</p><p>"Reiner, turn the light down."</p><p>"On the table," he says, not seeming to have heard me. "Now." He drags me up to my feet. Unable to find my bearings, I lean against him, limp and befuddled by the strange energy he suddenly exudes. Impatiently clicking his tongue, he lifts me up by the waist and puts me on the table, spreading my thighs with his own to make room for him.</p><p>"Lights," I plead.</p><p>He quietly tells me to shut up, tries to resume kissing my mouth, but when I don't let him, my heart pounding in the terrifying brightness of the room, he looms over me, slapping the wall in frustration. "The light is staying on." He grabs my jaw, and forces a kiss on my lips as he reached under my dress to hook a finger into the waistband of my knickers. I lift my hips to allow him to remove them, and the sudden coolness on my cunt is quickly replaced by his palm, his warm fingers, brushing over my entrance as I squeak. At the shock of insertion, my hand snaps onto his wrist, and is promptly shaken off.</p><p>He's always done what he's pleased with me; but there is now some change in his manner of acting for which I cannot account. It is a frightening aura about him, reminiscent of our fighting days when we were on opposite teams, but rather than propelling me to escape, it's making me yearn for more, it's making me want to submit to his will.</p><p>"Sopping wet, Mikasa." I gasp in shock when he suddenly removes his fingers and puts one in his mouth, tasting me with a dark smirk on his face and a groan of satisfaction. "And you taste delectable, too. I knew it. You want to know how I knew it?"</p><p>If I wasn't feeling shy enough already, his words are making it even more difficult to stay in the light. For the umpteenth time I want to turn away, but he cups my jaw and sets my head straight at him.</p><p>"I knew it because you're so eager to be a whore for me," he whispers gently, our lips once more smacking together. A hand comes down on my breast, and he runs the rough pad of him thumb over my nipple through my still wet dress. Without pausing the work of his lips, of his tongue, on mine, he tweaks my stiffened flesh between his thumb and forefinger, and I whine into his mouth when he rolls it. My hand comes up to twist at the crown of his hair. I hear him chuckle, I feel his smile against my mouth.</p><p>"I need it inside me..." I manage to whisper shyly. I'm aching so hard I feel I might just die.</p><p>"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all, "you won't be giving the orders today." He grinds against me, hard and slow, until my thighs are quivering, and I am insensible with desire, caressing his chest, the back of his neck, I am twisting my fist in his shirt where it disappears under his trousers--</p><p>It's a torturous moment as he tugs his shirt loose, undoes his belt, his eyes roaming all over my body, and releases his dick. I bite my lip as he prepares to push in, but I keep my eyes on the narrowed amber of his eyes.</p><p>"I'm gonna fuck you now," he declares, "but first you will promise to be a good girl."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Promise," he says as he sets the tip of his cock at my opening.</p><p>"Ahh, <em>yes</em>. Promise."</p><p>"You will do what I say."</p><p>"Yes, yes, everything!"</p><p>"Beg me, sweetheart."</p><p>"I beg you, I beg you...</p><p>"Don't look away," he breathes. It's unbearable, to have to look into his face, stern and tight with anticipation of ecstasy when I am aware that I must look like a reddened, disheveled, inexperienced little idiot. The thrilling pain lasts for longer than usual as he drives it into me up to the very hilt with agonising slowness. He groans gently in relief, and hooks one of my legs under his arm, leans forward on the table. It's too much for me; my eyes squeeze shut of their own volition as my mouth falls open and my head lolls back.</p><p>"I said don't look away," he says tightly. "Look at me."</p><p>"Please, Reiner, don't make me," I pant helplessly.</p><p>"No? I'll have to compensate, then." Without waiting, he peels away one of the loose flaps of my dress where I had undone my buttons.</p><p>He watches my breast bounce from a shallow thrust and he groans, cupping it and squeezing.</p><p>Unable to resist, I pull his head down, angle my chest up, I make him use his mouth on my bare nipple and he groans, swirling his tongue around it and sucking wetly until I shudder.</p><p>I am biting back my moans, wishing I were drunk like last night so I could let loose. I cannot let go of my reserve, no matter how much I try. He's seen it all. What difference does it make now?</p><p>He keeps using his tongue as the friction inside me increases, faster and faster, until he's pumping his erection into me with such force that it's making the table squeak in protest and bang against the wall with every thrust.</p><p>I don't know who kisses who, but there is a sudden hunger in my throat, one which is only satisfied when he ferocious brushes his lips against mine, uncontrolled and all tongue.</p><p>His mouth doesn't leave mine as he fucks me. When I come away for air, he buries his face, hot and and damp, in my neck. Every puff of air warms my skin, and I'm forced to keep one arm laced tight over his broad shoulder because he is thrusting into me so hard that he keeps pushing me away, the other hand gripping the edge of the table for balance. Occasionally, my breast rubs against his smooth shirt and those are the most delicious moments.</p><p>It is an animalistic tussle, one which brings me nearly to tears from the splitting pleasure. Indeed, there can be no description given to the pure delight, the agony of this enjoyment.</p><p>In his furious embrace, there is a lushness to our kisses, hungry and open-mouthed, in the panting breaths that escape our throats after every thrust.</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," he gasps as he thrusts deep and slows down. "Goddammit, fuck. Mikasa. You're so wet. <em>Jesus</em>."</p><p>"Don't come before me," I whisper, completely limp but for the tight arch in my back that accentuates my pleasure.</p><p>"Shh, baby," he murmurs into my neck. "Take your time, I'll wait, I'll wait all night if I have to, oh fuck you're so wet--"</p><p><em>Baby, </em>he called me. "I wish we had alcohol," I whisper in between my panting.</p><p>"I'm glad we don't," he grinds out. "You don't need it to let me see your pretty body." I don't know what he does, at this point, but he does <em>something</em>, and it makes me see stars behind my lids. He angles his hip up, pushes mine down, and it feels so maddeningly good that I shriek and scrape my nails against the table.</p><p>"Haah," I shudder. "Yes, yes, yes!" I cry out.</p><p>"<em>Quiet</em>." He clamps his large hand over my mouth, tight, continuing to thrust at this new angle, the table still squeaking underneath us.</p><p>Suddenly I am quivering. I have to let go of the table. With smothered moans, my entire body jolts against his hard form, I feel compelled to lock my legs behind his back, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I let the pinnacle of this incredible heat possess me from head to toe--the last thing on the planet that makes me feel alive anymore.</p><p>He roars in pain when I let go of the table and grip his upper arm, my nails digging in deep in my careless ecstasy.</p><p>The pulsating tremors of my orgasm draw out his own, his body stiffening until it snaps taut, flush against mine and a gruff moan tearing through his throat as the gush of warmth fills me up inside.</p><p>He pulls me up, moulding my body against his with one arm firmly holding me around the back, the other coming down to rest on the table. Still panting against each others' skins, we remain interlocked, breathless and helpless to do anything lock our lips in a frenzied embrace. He kisses my neck, my collar, grazes at my earlobe. I feel the echo of every beat of his heart inside my chest, while my pulse is still galloping hard like a creature on fire.</p><p>He doesn't pull out, which I enjoy on a level which is more than just physical. Before I can stop myself my fingers slide into his fine blonde hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, more for me than for him, eager to prolong this feeling of just being human. There's sweat gathered at the back of his neck, the rapidly cooling night air swiftly wicking it away.</p><p>I startle him a little when I try to adjust his head against my chest by pulling at his hair because his chin his hurting my shoulder and he suddenly looks straight at me, his amber eyes a little wide.</p><p>"Is this fine?" I say softly.</p><p>"It's more than fine," he says back to me, just as soft. He closes his eyes, leans into my touch like a cat, nuzzling into my chest, and his warmth keeps me warm.</p><p>It's quiet for a moment. And then comes the memory of our fight earlier. I can't even remember what it was about, but my heart pricks in shame.</p><p>When he finally draws out, now soft, immediately tucking his clothes back in place, I sink back against the icy wall, insensible and sated to the extreme, trembling at the sudden cold. With a jerk of his wrist, he covers my thigh with my skirt.</p><p>He bends, recovering my knickers for me. "Here you go," he says quietly.</p><p>I spot something new in his eyes when they accidentally meet mine, something downcast and illegible to me. He's refusing to look at me, he's perpetually turned away even as he hands me a kerchief to clean myself up with and pulls out another one to wipe at his neck.</p><p>I do not know this man well enough to understand what his new behaviour means, the dullness and silence, and something tells me he's not going to be willing to talk if I ask, so I let him be for now.</p><p>"Wanna get back?"</p><p>"Can't we stay here?" I say as I pull at his sleeve.</p><p>He looks down at me, and misses a beat before answering. "And what about Connie?"</p><p>"You know he sleeps like a log. And the beds are made of straw..." I trail off nervously as he looks at me blankly.</p><p>"You'd rather sleep in a cold shed?"</p><p>"Yes, actually."</p><p>He shrugs. "In that case I'll get the blankets and stuff."</p><p>"Get just one set. We might as well keep each other warm."</p><p>"Wouldn't have it any other way," he says with a wink and a smirk that perhaps seems a little forced. I flush a little at that, and I'm glad he's not there to see it. I kick my shoes off, keep my socks on.</p><p>He returns with a swaddle of blankets which top over his head. He kicks the door shut behind him and drops it all on the ground, laying a thin plastic mattress over the ground. I watch him do all the work. I watch as his muscles flex under his shirt as he snaps the blanket up high and lays it over the mattress. My mouth goes dry.</p><p>I know it's filthy. But we're no strangers to roughing it out. My mind is slow and distracted by the thought of sleeping close to him without having passed out from alcohol first.</p><p>"Do you need a change of clothes?" He asks. I shake my head no. "Go to bed. I'll be there a minute."</p><p>"Don't go--"</p><p>"I'll be right here. I'm at the window."</p><p>His eyes are on me, arms crossed and resting his weight on the table where we just fucked, as I slip into the covers and lie on my flank. His attentions focus to the outside. But when I turn to lie on my back I keep feeling a tickle down my neck, as if he's occasionally casting glances my way.</p><p>"Reiner, come..." I call out.</p><p>"Wish I had a cigarette right about now."</p><p>"You smoke?"</p><p>"A lot, yeah."</p><p>I roll onto my stomach so I can face him. I open my mouth to say something stupid and useless which I will regret as usual but my mouth remains open, silent, when he faces me right back, rubbing at his jaw but still leaning against the table. His hair is in disarray, as though he's just been in a fight, and he seems to be perturbed because of the wrinkle on his brow.</p><p>"Are you alright?" I ask, speaking quite out of guilt for earlier.</p><p>"Do you think we'll make it?" He asks suddenly.</p><p>I don't know if he means us stopping the rumbling, or something else; perhaps this bizarre thing between us, or getting out of this horrible storm, or making it to the next town and finding useful information...? "I don't know, Reiner."</p><p>"... do you hope that we will?"</p><p>"... I can only hope for what's best." I still don't know what he's talking about, and I don't quite want to give him an answer that might give him hope, or make him draw away, because for better or for worst I need this. It's the last thing that makes me feel like a person, it's all I've ever wanted, it's <em>sacred</em>.</p><p>Despite all that, I still can't be quite sure what it is that I want. At any rate, this is not a matter I like to dwell on.</p><p>He grunts. "Thanks for the food, earlier."</p><p>"Thanks for the horses. Now come," I say as I extend a hand out. Slowly, he approaches, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and kicking off his shoes. He looms over me a moment before he takes my hand, holding it gentle as he comes down to lie next to me.</p><p>Immediately I throw my leg over his knees, turning to him to rest my head on his chest.</p><p>"Oh," he exclaims softly. "Alright."</p><p>"Is this alright?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>We lay there, huddled under the blanket and growing warmer, and soon it becomes obvious that neither one of us is ready to sleep.</p><p>"What about you? What do you hope for?"</p><p>"I sort of... Just want my happy ending."</p><p>"Like what?" I laugh. "Stopping the rumbling, ending the curse, getting a wife, kids, everlasting glory, all that stuff?"</p><p>"Hah. Not quite," he says with a smile too bright, too happy. "Or perhaps... Ah, I don't know. Not exactly my idea of a happy ending before this." Something in his tone makes me draw back a little.</p><p>"I don't know what you're saying," I say with a giggle that infects him and he chuckles too.</p><p>"Neither do I."</p><p>"I do like your shirt, though. Very soft."</p><p>"Gift from my mum."</p><p>"What's she like?"</p><p>"A little much..."</p><p>"Ah. Your dad?"</p><p>He pauses for a moment. "A little bit <em>too</em> much."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"Your parents? What were they like, before?"</p><p>"The best."</p><p>Conversation is strange, stilted, as we are still looking for our bearings around each other; testing each other's limits, drawing back, silent apologies hanging in the silence when we toe the line too closely.</p><p>Of course, for that we both have to pretend what just happened didn't, in fact, happen, in order to act the part of the new lovers who haven't yet had their first fight. To me this means one thing: he wants a clean do-over with me, and to my surprise, I do as well.</p><p>I'm using his chest as a pillow, listening to the rumble of his voice as he speaks, while he's using his own hand to rest his head on.</p><p>He's looking straight up at the ceiling. I seize the opportunity to observe his body, from his pale hair, the aquiline nose, the pale and oddly lovely lips. The furrowed brows. I can spy sparse hairs on his chest, where he has unbuttoned his shirt to allow for comfort while sleeping.</p><p>I paw curiously at the coarse skin there. I don't know any other men my age who have chest hair. Jean might have, but I haven't thought to check.</p><p>I feel him relax into my touch. I stretch up to drop a kiss on his cheek, brushing my lips against his stubble. He sighs, and he seems to like it so I keep kissing his face, letting my hand trail down and pet his stomach like he's some kind of baby or an animal in need of comfort.</p><p>"Let's not fight like that," he says in a quick breath. "I loathe it." His hand comes up to caress my arm.</p><p>He twitches away when my fingers accidentally wander too close to his thigh. "Ah, sorry," I say. I don't say, however, that the fight was entirely of his making.</p><p>He takes my hand, kisses my fingers. Tilts my head up and kisses my lips.</p><p>"Don't leave me, Reiner." I say with a sense of urgency. "Never leave me."</p><p>"You know... I don't think I could if I wanted to, my darling."</p><p>I want to hear him call me his darling again. Hoping fervently that I may hear it again in my dreams, I nestle into his chest, my palm resting on the sinewy muscles of his body. He holds me tight, that way I don't slip off.</p><p>Close to when I am a hairsbreadth away from drifting off, a sudden thought strikes me, one which I was always to reluctant to ask Eren.</p><p>"Reiner?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Are you awake?"</p><p>"I am now."</p><p>"I have to tell you something."</p><p>"Tell me."</p><p>"Does it hurt when you shift?"</p><p>"Is that what you wanted to tell me? Sometimes I feel you might benefit from a dictionary."</p><p>"Very funny; but answer my question."</p><p>"Why the sudden curiosity? Sometimes it does."</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>"Like... Burning, I don't know."</p><p>"You don't want to talk of it?"</p><p>"Not really."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>"I'm sorry about your ribs."</p><p>"Thanks. But I'm used to it."</p><p>"Sleep," he whispers, caressing my head as I drift off.</p><p>"I can't believe we had our first fight within less than a week."</p><p>He misses a beat, once again. "I said go to sleep."</p><p>I don’t care what he tells me to do, I was sleepy anyway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Longest chapter so far, I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think please! All feedback is appreciated, even if it's negative.</p><p>And for those who don't follow my LeviMika story (All of these Shadows) - I might have cancer, and I'm pretty terrified right now lmao so I'm hoping to get this entire story out before I am no longer able to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>